mr  ,{? 


z/i^z^;>rmi!Z^^  i/^ 


./v:5^ 


>fe     ,Ji 


«#-■- 


eAmif  ^/i^^ue^ 


c)fc/^/^^^'-'\ 


n 


TOURMALIN'S 
TIME    CHEQUES 


BY 

F.   ANSTEY 

AUTHOR  OP  VICE   VERSA,    THE  TINTED   VENUS, 
THE   BLA.CK  POODLE,    ETC. 


NEW  YORK 
D.   APPLETON   AND   COMPANY 

1891 


Authonzed  edition. 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNM 

SANTA  BARBARA 


CONTENTS. 


PROLOGUE. 

PAGE 

On  Deck — Curry  and  Culture — Alternative  Distrac- 
tions— A  Period  of  Probation — The  Oath  and 
the  Talisman — Wavering — A  Chronological  Er- 
ror— The  Time  Bargain — Tourmalin  Opens  an 
Account 7 

CHAPTER  I. 

tourmalin's  first  cheque  and  how  he  took  it. 

Fidelity  Rewarded — Love's  Catechism — Brain-fag : 
a  Timely  Recollection — The  Experiment,  and 
some  Startling  Results — Question  Time — "  Dear 
Friends  " — A  Compromise 29 

CHAPTER  IL 

the  second  cheque. 

Furnishing — A  Cosy  Corner — "  Sitting  Out " — Fresh 
Discoveries — Twice  a  Hero — Bewilderment  and 
Bathos 48 


4  C0ntertt0. 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE   THIRD   CHEQUE. 

PAGE 

Good  Resolutions — Casuistry — A  Farewell  Visit — 
Small  Profit  and  a  Quick  Return         .        .        .63 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   FOURTH   CHEQUE. 

A  Blue  Moon— Felicity  in  a  Flat— Practical  Astron- 
omy— Temptation  and  a  Relapse — The  Diflleul- 
ties  of  being  Completely  Candid — A  Slight  Mis- 
understanding— The  Avenging  Orange       .        .    78 

CHAPTER   V. 

PERIODIC   DRAWINGS. 

A  Series  of  Cheques — Their  Advantages  and  Draw- 
backs —  An  Unknown  Factor  —  Uncom  pleted 
Confidences— Ibsen,  with  Intervals — A  Disap- 
pointment.— A  "Search  Question"  from  Sophia 
— Confidence  Restored 93 


CHAPTER  VI. 

FOIL  AND  COUNTERFOIL. 

The  Duties  of  Authorship— Peter's  Continued  Per- 
versity and  its  Unforeseen  Results — "  Alfred  " — 
The  Tragic  Note — An  Interrupted  Crisis — A  Do- 
mestic Surprise 114 


Contcnt0.  5 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   CULMINATING   CHEQUE. 

PAGE 

Sophia  Gives  an  Explanation,  and  Requests  One — 
Her  Verdict — Peter  Overruled     ....  130 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

PAID   IN   HIS  OWN  COIN. 

In  Suspense — A  Gleam  of  Comfort — Darkness  Re- 
turns— The  Rock  Ahead — Sir  William  Lends  his 
Binocular — Reappearance  of  an  Old  Enemy — A 
New  Danger — Out  of  the  Frying-pan         .        .  146 

CHAPTER  IX. 

COMPOUND   INTEREST. 

Back  to  the  Fire  Again — A  Magnanimous  Return — 
Catching  at  Straws — Two  Total  Strangers — 
Purely  a  Question  of  Precedence — "  Hemmed 
in  "  and  "  Surrounded  " — The  Last  Chance         .  163 

CHAPTER  X. 
Denouement 185 

THE  EPILOGUE 190 


TOURMALIN'S  TIME  CHEQUES. 


THE  PEOLOGUE. 

On  Deck. — Curry  and  Culture. — Alternative  Distractions. 
— A  Period  of  Probation. — The  Oath  and  the  Talis- 
man.—  Wavering. — A  Chronological  Error. — The  Time 
Bargain. — Tourmalin  Opens  an  Account. 

Mr.  Peter  Tourmalin  was  sitting,  or  rather 
lying,  in  a  steamer-chair,  on  the  first-class  sa- 
loon-deck of  the  P.  and  O.  ship  Boomerang, 
which  had  not  been  many  days  as  yet  on  the 
voyage  home  from  Sydney.  He  had  been 
trying  to  read ;  but  it  was  a  hot  morning,  and 
the  curry,  of  which  he  had  partaken  freely 
at  breakfast,  had  made  him  feel  a  little  heavy 
and  disinclined  for  mental  exertion  just  then, 
particularly  as  Buckle's  History  of  Civiliza- 
tion,  the  first  volume  of  which  he  had  brought 


8  ®ottrmalin'0  ®iine  (i[II)cqne0. 

up  from  the  ship's  library,  is  not  exactly  light 
literature  at  any  time. 

He  wanted  distraction  of  some  sort,  but  he 
could  not  summon  up  sufficient  energy  to  rise 
and  pace  the  deck,  as  his  only  acquaintance  on 
board,  a  Mr.  Perkins,  was  doing  with  a  breezy 
vigor  which  Tourmalin  found  himseK  feebly 
resenting. 

Another  alternative  was  open  to  him,  it  is 
true :  not  far  away  were  other  deck-chairs,  in 
which  some  of  the  lady  passengers  were  read- 
ing, writing,  and  chatting  more  or  less  lan- 
guidly. There  were  not  very  many  on  board 
— for  it  was  autumn,  a  time  at  which  home- 
wardbound  vessels  are  not  apt  to  be  crowded 
— but  even  in  that  small  group  there  were 
one  or  two  with  whom  it  might  have  seemed 
possible  to  pass  a  little  time  in  a  pleasant  and 
profitable  manner.  For  instance,  there  was 
that  tall,  graceful  girl  in  the  navy-blue  skirt, 
and  the  striped  cotton  blouse  confined  at  her 
slender  waist  by  a  leathern  belt.  (Tourmahn, 
it  should  be  mentioned,  was  in  the  habit  of 
noticing  the  details  of  feminine  costume.)  She 
had  regular  features,  gray  eyes  which  lighted 
up  whenever  she  spoke,  and  an  expression  of 


Srije  Probgnc. 


siDgular  nobility  and  sweetness ;  her  fair  hair 
was  fastened  up  in  loose  gleaming  masses  un- 
der her  highly  becoming  straw  hat, 

Peter  watched  her  surreptitiously,  from  time 
to  time,  from  behind  the  third  page  of  Buckle. 
She  was  attempting  to  read  a  novel ;  but  her 
attention,  like  his  own,  wandered  occasionally, 
and  he  even  fancied  that  he  surprised  her 
now  and  then  in  the  act  of  glancing  at  himself 
with  a  certain  interest. 

Near  her  was  another  girl,  not  quite  so  tall, 
and  darker,  but  scarcely  less  pleasing  in  appear- 
ance. She  wore  a  cool-looking  pink  frock, 
and  her  luxuriant  bronze  tresses  were  set  off 
by  a  simple  white  flannel  cap.  She  held  some 
embroidery  in  her  listless  fingers,  but  was  prin- 
cipally occupied  in  gazing  out  to  sea  with  a 
wistful  and  almost  melancholy  expression. 
Her  eyes  were  soft  and  brown,  and  her  feat- 
ures piquantly  irregular ;  giving  Peter,  wlio 
considered  himself  no  mean  judge  of  female 
character,  the  impression  of  a  highly  emo- 
tional and  enthusiastic  temperament.  He 
thought  he  saw  signs  that  she  also  honored 
him  by  her  notice. 

Peter  was  a  flat-headed   little  man,   with 


10  ©ourmalin's  Qtimc  (tl)cc\ncs. 

weak  eyes  and  flaxen  hair ;  but  even  fiat- 
headed  little  men  may  indulge  these  fancies 
at  times,  without  grossly  deceiving  themselves. 
He  knew,  as  one  does  learn  such  things  on 
board  ship,  that  the  name  of  the  first  young 
lady  was  Tyrrell,  and  that  she  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  a  judge  who  had  been  spending  the 
Long  Vacation  in  a  voyage  to  recruit  his 
health.  Of  the  other,  he  knew  no  more  than 
that  she  was  a  Miss  Davenport. 

At  present,  however,  he  had  no  personal 
acquaintance  with  either  of  them,  and,  in  fact, 
as  has  already  been  said,  knew  nobody  on 
board  to  speak  to,  except  the  energetic  Mr. 
Perkins,  a  cheery  man  with  a  large  fund  of 
general  information,  who  was  going  home  on 
some  business  connected  with  a  banking  house 
in  Melbourne. 

And  yet  it  is  not  diflicult  to  make  acquaint- 
ances on  board  ship,  if  a  man  cares  to  do  so ; 
accident  or  design  will  provide  opportunities 
in  plenty,  and  two  or  three  days  at  sea  are 
equivalent  to  at  least  as  many  weeks  on  shore. 
And  Peter  being  quite  aware  of  these  facts, 
and  by  no  means  indifferent  to  the  society  of 
the   other  sex,    which,  indeed  -he  considered 


®l)e  Prologue.  11 


more  'interesting  than  that  of  his  own,  it 
would  seem  that  he  must  have  had  some  strong 
reason  for  having  kept  studiously  apart  from 
the  social  life  on  board  the  BoomeroMg. 

He  had  a  reason,  and  it  was  this :  he  was 
an  engaged  man,  and  on  his  probation.  A 
bachelor,  still  under  thirty,  of  desultory  hab- 
its which  unfitted  him  to  shine  in  any  pro- 
fession, he  had  a  competency — that  refuge  of 
the  incompetent — which  made  him  independ- 
ent. 

Some  months  previously  he  had  had  the 
good  fortune  to  meet  with  a  lady  somewhat 
his  junior  in  years,  but  endowed  with  charms 
of  mind  and  character  which  excited  his  ad- 
miration and  reverence.  He  recognized  that 
she  supplied  the  qualities  in  which  he  felt  him- 
self deficient ;  he  was  weary  of  the  rather 
purposeless  life  he  had  led.  He  wanted  a  wife 
who  would  regulate  and  organize  his  exist- 
ence ;  and  Miss  Sophia  Pinceney,  with  her 
decision  and  her  thoroughness,  was  eminently 
the  person  to  do  it.  So  it  was  not  long  be- 
fore he  took  courage  and  proposed  to  her. 

Miss  Pinceney,  though  she  had  been  highly 
educated,  and  possessed  a  considerable  fortune 


12  Sonrmalin's  ®ime  (t\)cqnc5. 

of  lier  own,  was  by  no  means  inclined  to  look 
unfavorably  upon  such  a  suitor.  He  might  not 
be  quite  her  intellectual  equal,  but  he  was  anx- 
ious to  improve  his  mind.  He  was  amiable 
and  amenable,  and  altogether  likely,  under  care- 
ful guidance,  to  prove  an  excellent  husband. 

But  she  was  prudent,  and  reason  told  her 
that  the  suddenness  of  Peter's  passion  was  no 
guarantee  of  its  enduring  qualities.  She  had 
heard  and  seen  too  much  of  a  rather  catholic 
susceptibility  in  his  nature,  to  feel  it  safe  to  in- 
cur so  grave  a  risk  as  marriage  until  she  had 
certain  proof  that  his  attachment  to  her  was 
robust  enough  to  bear  the  severest  test ;  and 
to  that  test  she  was  determined  to  submit  him. 

She  consented  to  an  engagement  on  one 
condition,  that  he  was  to  take  a  long  voyage. 
If  he  returned  in  the  same  mind,  she  would 
be  sufficiently  sure  of  his  constancy  to  marry 
liim  as  soon  as  he  wished :  if  he  did  not,  her 
misgivings  would  be  amply  justified.  There 
was  very  little  sentiment  about  Sophia;  she 
took  a  practical  and  philosophical  view  of 
the  marriage  union,  as  became  a  disciple  of 
Ibsen. 

"  I  like  you,  Peter,"  she  told  him  frankly ; 


®l)e  Prologue.  13 


"  you  have  many  qualities  that  endear  you  to 
me,  but  I  don't  feel  that  I  can  depend  upon 
you  at  present.  And  from  what  I  know  of 
you,  I  fear  it  is  only  too  probable  that  ab- 
sence and  the  attractive  society  of  a  passen- 
ger-ship may  lead  you  to  discover  that  you 
have  mistaken  the  depth  of  the  feeling  you 
entertain  for  me." 

"  But  look  here,  Sophia,"  he  had  expostu- 
lated ;  "  if  you're  afraid  of  that,  why  do  you 
make  me  go  ? " 

"Because,"  she  had  replied,  with  her  ad- 
mirable common  sense,  "  because,  if  my  fears 
should  prove  to  be  unhappily  only  too  well- 
founded,  I  shall,  at  least,  have  made  the  dis- 
covery before  it  is  too  late." 

And,  in  spite  of  all  his  protests,  Peter  had 
to  go.  Sophia  sought  to  reconcile  him  to 
this  necessity  by  pointing  out  the  advantages 
of  travel,  the  enlarffino;  effect  it  would  have 
upon  his  mind,  and  the  opportunities  a  long 
sea-voyage  afforded  for  regular  and  uninter- 
rupted study  on  the  lines  she  had  already 
mapped  out  for  him ;  but  despite  these  con- 
solations, he  went  away  in  low  spirits.  "When 
the  moment  came  for  parting,  even  the  strong- 


14  dTonrtttttlin's  QTime  (E\)cc\nes. 

minded  Sophia  was  seized  with  a  kind  of 
compunction. 

"  Something  tells  me,  Peter,"  she  said,  "  that 
the  ordeal  will  prove  too  much  for  you :  in 
spite  of  your  good  resolutions,  you  will  sooner 
or  later  be  drawn  into  some  flirtation  which 
will  make  you  forget  me.  I  know  you  so  well, 
Peter ! " 

"  I  wish  you  could  show  a  little  more  confi- 
dence in  me,"  he  had  answered  in  a  wounded 
tone.  "  Since  I  met  you,  Sophia,  I  have 
ceased  to  be  the  butterfly  I  was.  But  as  you 
seem  to  doubt  me,  it  may  relieve  your  mind 
if  I  promise  faithfully  that,  while  I  am  away 
from  you,  I  will  never,  under  any  induce- 
ment, allow  myself  to  overstep  the  limits  of 
the  most  ordinary  civility  toward  any  Avoman 
with  whom  I  may  be  brought  in  contact.  I 
swear  it,  Sophia  !      Are  you  satisfied  now  ? " 

Perhaps  he  had  a  secret  prevision  that 
a  time  might  come  when  this  oath  would 
prove  a  salutary  restraint  upon  his  straying 
fancy,  and  it  certainly  had  an  immediate  and 
most  reassuring  effect  upon  Sophia. 

Tourmalin  had  gone  out  to  Australia,  had 
seen  something  of  the  country  during  his  stay 


@;i)e  Prologue.  15 


in  the  colony,  and  was  now,  as  we  have  seen, 
on  his  return ;  and  during  the  whole  time  his 
oath,  to  his  great  credit,  had  been  literally  and 
faithfully  kept. 

During  the  voyage  out,  he  had  been  too  per- 
sistently unwell  to  be  inclined  to  dally  with 
sentiment ;  but  in  his  subsequent  wanderings, 
he  had  avoided,  or  rather  escaped,  all  inter- 
course with  any  Colonial  ladies  who  might 
by  any  possibility  affect  his  allegiance  to 
•  Sophia,  whose  image  consequently  still  held 
undisputed  possession  of  his  heart. 

In  case  he  should  feel  himself  wavering  at 
any  time,  he  had  been  careful  to  provide 
himself  with  a  talisman  in  the  shape  of  a 
photograph,  the  mere  sight  of  which  would 
be  instantly  effectual.  But  somehow,  since 
he  had  been  on  board  the  Boomerang,  the 
occasions  on  which  he  had  been  driven  to 
refer  to  this  photograph  had  been  growing 
more  and  more  frequent ;  while,  at  the  same 
time,  he  had  a  tormenting  consciousness  that 
it  took  an  increasingly  longer  time  to  work. 

He  brought  it  out  now,  and  studied  it  at- 
tentively. It  was  the  likeness  of  a  girl  with- 
out any  great  pretensions  to  beauty,  with  dark 


16  Sourmalin's  Sime  dicrjtte©. 

hair  rolled  neatly  back  from  a  massive  brow 
that  shone  with  intellectuality ;  penetrating 
eyes,  whose  keenness  was  generally  tempered 
by  folding  glasses ;  a  large,  firm  mouth,  and 
a  square  chin  ;  altogether,  the  face  of  a  young 
woman  who  would  stand  no  trifling. 

He  put  it  back  respectfully  in  his  pocket ; 
but  the  impulse  to  go  across  and  drop,  in  an 
accidental  fashion,  into  a  vacant  seat  near  one 
of  those  two  girls  was  still  unconquered.  He 
was  feeling  so  dull ;  he  had  got  such  a  very 
little  way  into  the  History  of  Civilization^  a 
work  which  he  was  reading  rather  for  Sophia's 
satisfaction  than  his  own,  and  there  was  such 
a  lot  more  of  it !  Might  he  not  allow  him- 
self a  brief  holiday,  and  beguile  the  long 
weary  morning  with  a  little  cheerful  conver- 
sation ?  It  was  most  unlikely,  strict  etiquette 
being  by  general  consent  suspended  on  board 
ship,  that  either  young  lady  would  resent  a 
hazarded  remark — at  all  events,  he  could  but 
try. 

But  then  his  oath — his  rash  and  voluntary 
oath  to  Sophia — what  of  that  ?  He  had  not, 
it  was  true,  debarred  himself  from  ordinary 
civility  ;    but  could  he  be   sure   of   keeping 


^\)c  prologtjc.  17 


always  within  those  bounds  if  the  acquaint- 
anceship was  once  established  ?  He  had  rea- 
sons for  doubting  this  very  seriously.  And,  be- 
sides, had  not  Sophia  more  than  hinted  in  her 
last  letter  that,  as  a  reward  for  his  fidelity, 
she  might  join  the  ship  at  Gibraltar  with  her 
mother,  and  so  put  an  earlier  end  to  his  term 
of  probation?  He  could  not  be  too  careful. 
After  holding  out  so  long,  it  would  be  mad- 
ness to  relax  his  precautions  now.  No,  he 
would  resist  these  Sirens,  like  a  modern  Ulysses  ; 
though,  in  the  latter's  case,  the  Sirens  were  not 
actually  on  board,  and,  even  then,  the  hero 
had  to  be  lashed  to  the  mast.  But  Tourmalin 
felt  confident,  notwithstanding,  that  he  would 
prove  at  least  as  obdurate  as  the  wily  Greek. 

He  was  not  a  strong-minded  man ;  but  he 
had  one  quality  which  is  almost  as  valuable 
a  safeguard  against  temptation  as  strength  of 
mind — namely,  timidity. 

His  love  for  his  betrothed  was  chastened 
by  a  considerable  dash  of  awe,  and  he  was  re- 
solved not  to  compromise  himself  in  her  eyes 
just  for  the  sake  of  a  little  temporary  distrac- 
tion. 

At  this  point  of  his  deliberations  he  looked 
2 


18  STourmalin's  ®ime  QTIjcqucs. 

at  his  watch  :  it  was  close  upon  twelve ;  only 
one  hour  to  be  got  through  before  tiflSn. 
Why,  an  hour  was  nothing ;  he  could  surely 
contrive  to  kill  it  over  Buckle  !  A  little 
courage,  a  little  concentration,  and  he  would 
certainly  attain  to  an  interest  in  "  the  laws 
which  govern  human  actions." 

The  ship's  bells  were  just  striking ;  he 
counted  the  strokes:  one,  two,  three,  four, 
five — and  no  more !  There  must  be  some 
mistake  ;  it  could  not  possibly  be  only  half- 
past  ten.  Why,  it  was  hours  since  break- 
fast! 

"  Looking  at  your  watch,  eh  1 "  said  his 
friend  Perkins,  as  he  reached  Peter's  chair 
for  about  the  hundredth  time.  "  Ah  !  you're 
fast,  I  see.  Haven't  altered  your  watch  yet  ? 
They've  put  the  ship's  clock  back  again  this 
morning ;  nearly  half  an  hour  it  was  this 
time — it  was  rather  less  yesterday  and  the  day 
before :  we  shall  go  on  gaining  so  much  extra 
time  a  da}',  I  suppose,  till  we  get  to  Gib." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  that ! "  ex- 
claimed Peter,  with  a  half-suppressed  groan. 
If  the  time  had  seemed  tedious  and  inter- 
minable  enough  before,  how  much  more  so 


^[)c  Prologue.  19 


was  it  now !  How  infinitely  greater  would  the 
effort  be  to  fix  his  thoughts  resolutely  on 
Buckle,  and  ignore  the  very  existence  of  his 
distracting  neighbors,  now  that  it  was  to  be 
daily  prolonged  in  this  exasperating  manner ! 

"  You  don't  seem  to  appreciate  the  arrange- 
ment ?  "  remarked  the  Manager,  as  he  allowed 
himself  to  drop  cautiously — for  he  was  a  bulky 
man — ^into  a  hammock-chair  beside  Tourmalin. 

"Appreciate  it!"  said  Peter,  with  strong 
disgust,  "  Aren't  there  enough  half-hours, 
and  confoundedly  long  ones,  too,  in  the  day  as 
it  is,  without  having  extra  ones  forced  on  you 
like  this  ?  And  giving  it  to  us  in  the  day- 
time, too  !  They  might  at  least  put  the  clock 
back  at  night,  when  it  wouldn't  so  much  mat- 
ter. I  do  think  it's  very  bad  management,  I 
must  say ! " 

His  companion  began  a  long  explanation 
about  the  meridian,  and  sun's  time,  and  ship's 
time,  and  Greenwich  time,  to  which  Peter 
gave  but  a  very  intermittent  attention,  so  stu- 
pefied did  he  feel  at  this  unwelcome  discovery. 

"It's  a  curious  thing  to  think  of,"  the 
other  was  saying  thoughtfully,  "  that  a  man 
by  simply  making  a  voyage  like  this,  should 


20  QLonxmaiiri'Q  QLimc  (Il)cqttcs. 

make  a  clear  gain  of  several  hours  wliich  he 
would  never  have  had  at  all  if  he  had  stayed 
at  home  !  " 

"  I  would  much  rather  be  without  them," 
said  Peter.  "  I  find  it  quite  difficult  enough 
to  spend  the  time  as  it  is  ;  and  how  on  earth 
I  can  spend  any  more,  I  don't  know  !  " 

"  Why  spend  it,  then  ? "  asked  his  friend 
quietly. 

"  What  else  am  I  to  do  with  it  ? " 

"  What  else  ?  See  here,  my  friend ;  when 
you  have  an  amount  of  spare  cash  that  you've 
no  immediate  use  for,  you  don't  let  it  lie  idle 
at  home,  do  you  ?  You  pay  it  in  to  your 
credit  at  a  bank,  and  let  it  remain  on  deposit 
till  you  do  want  it — eh  ?  Well,  then,  why  not 
treat  your  spare  time  as  you  would  your  spare 
cash.     Do  you  see  what  I  mean  ?  " 

"Not  altogether,"  confessed  Peter,  consid- 
erably puzzled. 

"  It's  simple  enough  nowadays.  For  in- 
stance, the  establishment  I  have  the  honor  to 
be  connected  with — the  Anglo- Australian  Joint 
Stock  Time  Bank,  Limited — confines  itseK,  as 
you  are  doubtless  aware,  almost  entirely  to  that 
class  of  business." 


©lie  probgne.  21 


"  Ah ! "  said  Peter,  no  more  enliglitened 
than  before,  "  does  it  indeed  ?  Would  you 
mind  explaining  what  particular  class  of  busi- 
ness it  carries  on  ?  I  don't  quite  under- 
stand." 

"  Bless  my  soul,  sir ! "  said  the  Manager, 
rather  irritably,  you  must  be  uncommonly  ig- 
norant of  financial  matters  not  to  have  heard 
of  this  before !  However,  I  will  try  to  make 
it  clear  to  you.  I  dare  say  you  have  heard 
that  '  Time  is  money  ? '  "Very  well,  all  our 
operations  are  conducted  on  that  principle. 
We  are  prepared  to  make  advances,  on  good 
security  of  course,  of  time  to  almost  any 
amount ;  and  we  are  «imply  overwhelmed  with 
applications  for  loans.  Business  men,  as  you 
may  know,  are  perpetually  pressed  for  time, 
and  mil  consent  to  almost  anything  to  obtain 
it.  Our  transactions  in  time,  sir,  are  immense. 
Why,  the  amount  of  Time  passing  through  our 
books  annually  during  the  last  ten  years,  aver- 
ages— ah !  about  sixty  centuries !  That's  pret- 
ty well,  I  think,  sir  ?  " 

He  was  so  perfectly  business-like  and  seri- 
ous that  Peter  almost  forgot  to  see  anything 
preposterous  in  what  he  said. 


22  ^onrmoUn's  Qimc  (Kfjcques. 

"  It  sounds  magnificent,"  he  said  politely ; 
"only  you  see,  I  don't  want  to  borrow  any 
time  myself.  I've  too  much  on  my  hands  al- 
ready." 

"  Just  so,"  said  the  Manager  ;  "  but  if  you 
will  kindly  hear  me  out,  I  am  coming  to  that. 
Lending  time  is  only  one  side  of  our  business  ; 
we  are  also  ready  to  accept  the  charge  of  any 
spare  time  that  customers  may  be  willing  to 
deposit  with  us,  and,  with  our  experience  and 
facilities,  I  need  hardly  say  that  we  are  able  to 
employ  it  to  the  best  advantage.  Now,  say, 
for  example,  that  you  wish  to  open  an  account 
with  us.  Well,  we'll  take  these  spare  half- 
hours  of  yours  that  are  f»nly  an  encumbrance 
to  you  at  present,  and  if  you  choose  to  allow 
them  to  remain  on  deposit,  they  will  carry  in- 
terest at  five  per  cent,  per  month ;  that  is,  five 
minutes  on  every  hour  and  three  quarters 
roughly,  for  each  month,  until  you  withdraw 
them.  In  that  way  alone,  by  merely  leaving 
your  time  with  us  for  six  months  you  will  gain 
— now,  let  me  see — over  tb.ree  additional  hours 
in  compound  interest  on  your  original  capital 
of  ten  hours  or  so.  And  no  previous  notice 
required  before  withdrawal !     Let  me  tell  you, 


®l)e  prologne.  23 


sir,  you  will  not  find  many  banks  do  business 
on  such  terms  as  that !  " 

"  No,"  said  Peter,  who  could  not  follow  all 
this  arithmetic,  "  so  I  should  imagine.  Only, 
I  don't  quite  see,  if  you  will  pardon  my  saying 
so,  what  particular  advantage  I  should  gain  if 
I  did  open  an  account  of  this  sort." 

"  You  don't  ?  You  surprise  me,  you  really 
do !  Here  are  you,  with  these  additional  hours 
lying  idle  on  your  hands ;  you  didn't  expect 
'em,  and  don't  want  'em.  But  how  do  you 
know  that  you  maynH  be  glad  of  'em  at  some 
time  or  other  ?  Just  think  how  grateful  you 
might  be  hereafter,  if  you  could  get  back  a 
single  one  of  these  half-hours  which  you  find 
so  tedious  now.  Half  an  hour  on  board  a  fine 
ship  like  this,  splendid  weather,  bracing  sea- 
air,  perfect  rest,  pleasant  company,  and  so  on 
— why,  you'd  be  willing  to  pay  any  money  for 
it !  Well,  bank  your  extra  time  ;  and  you  can 
draw  every  individual  hour  in  quarters,  halves, 
or  wholes,  when  you  please  and  as  you  please. 
Thafs  the  advantage  of  it,  sir  !  " 

"  I  think  I  see,"  said  Peter  ;  "  only  how  am 
I  to  make  the  deposit  in  the  first  instance  ? " 

"  That's  easily  arranged.     The  captain  can't 


24  Sfonrmolin's  Sitne  €l)eqttcs. 

compel  you  to  accept  the  time  now  bj  merely 
putting  back  tlie  hands  of  the  clock,  can  he  ? 
So  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  abstain  from  alter- 
ing your  watch  so  long  as  you  are  on  board, 
and  to  fill  up  a  little  form ;  after  which  I 
shall  be  happy  to  supply  you  with  a  book 
of  Time  Cheques,  which  you  can  fill  up  and 
present  whenever  you  wish  to  spend  a  given 
number  of  minutes  in  the  pleasantest  possible 
of  ways." 

"  But  where  am  I  to  present  these  cheques  ?  " 
inquired  Peter. 

"Oh!"  said  the  Manager,  "there  will  be 
no  difiiculty  whatever  about  that.  Any  clock 
will  cash  it  for  you — provided,  of  course,  that 
it  hasn't  stopped.  You  merely  have  to  slip 
your  cheque  underneath  or  behind  it,  and  you 
will  at  once  be  paid  whatever  amount  of  time 
the  cheque  is  drawn  for.  I  can  show  you  one 
of  our  forms  if  you  like  ? " 

Here  he  brought  out  a  bulky  leather  case, 
from  which  he  extracted  a  printed  document, 
which  he  handed  to  Peter. 

Peter,  however,  being  naturally  cautious, 
felt  a  hesitation  which  he  scarcely  liked  to 
confess. 


QL\]c  IJJroloigu^.  25 


"  You  see,"  he  said,  "  the  fact  is,  I  should 
like  to  know  first  .  .  .  I've  never  been  engaged 
in  a — a  transaction  of  this  kind  before ;  and, 
well — what  1  mean  is,  do  I  incur  any  risk  of 
— er — a  supernatural  character?  ...  It  isn't 
like  that  business  of  Faust's,  eh,  don't  you 
know  ? " 

The  Manager  took  back  the  paper  with  an 
abruptness  which  showed  that  his  temper  was 
ruffled  by  this  suspicion. 

"  My  good  sir ! "  he  said,  with  a  short 
offended  laugh,  "don't,  on  any  account,  im- 
agine that  /  care  two  pins  whether  you  be- 
come a  depositor  or  not.  I  dare  say  our  house 
will  continue  to  exist  without  your  account. 
As  for  liability,  ours  is  a  limited  concern  ;  and, 
besides,  a  deposit  would  not  constitute  you 
a  shareholder.  If  you  meant  anything  more 
— well,  I  have  still  to  learn  that  there's  any- 
thing diabolical  about  me,  sir!  I  simply 
thought  I  was  doing  you  a  good  turn  by  mak- 
ing the  suggestion ;  and,  besides,  as  a  business 
man,  I  never  neglect  any  opportunity,  how- 
ever small.  But  it's  entirely  as  you  please, 
I'm  sure." 

There  was  nothing  in  the  least  demoniacal, 


26  Sourmalin's  QLimc  (jll)equcs. 

even  in  his  annoyance,  and  Peter  was  moved 
to  contrition  and  apology. 

"  I — I  really  beg  your  pardon !  "  lie  said. 
"  I  do  hope  I  haven't  offended  you ;  and,  if 
you  will  allow  nie,  I  shall  consider  it  a  personal 
favor  to  be  allowed  to  open  an  account  with 
your  bank.  It  would  certainly  be  a  great 
convenience  to  draw  some  of  this  superfluous 
time  at  some  future  day,  instead  of  wasting  it 
now.     Where  do  I  sign  the  form  ? " 

The  Manager  was  appeased  ;  and  produced 
the  form  once  more,  indicating  the  place  for 
the  signature,  and  even  providing  a  stylo- 
graph-pen for  the  purpose.  It  was  still  some- 
what of  a  relief  to  Peter's  mind  to  find  that 
the  ink  it  contained  was  of  the  ordinary  black 
hue. 

"  And  now,  about  cheques,"  said  his  friend, 
after  the  signature  had  been  obtained.  "  How 
many,  do  you  think  you  would  require  ?  I 
should  say  that,  as  the  deposit  is  rather  small, 
you  Mall  find  fifty  more  than  sufficient  ?  We 
shall  debit  you  with  fifty  seconds  to  cover 
the  cheque-book.  And  we  always  recommend 
'  bearer '  cheques  as,  on  the  whole,  more  con- 
venient." 


(l\)C  Prologue.  27 


Peter  said  he  would  have  fifty  bearer 
cheques,  and  was  accordingly  given  an  oblong 
gray-green  book,  which,  except  that  it  was  a 
trille  smaller,  was  in  nowise  different,  out- 
wardly, from  an  ordinary  cheque-book.  Still, 
his  curiosity  was  not  completely  satisfied. 

"  There  is  just  one  question  more,"  he  said. 
"When  I  draw  this  time,  where  will  it  be 
spent  ? " 

"  Wliy,  naturally,  on  board  this  ship,"  ex- 
plained the  Manager.  "  You  see  that  the  time 
yon  will  get  must  necessarily  be  the  extra 
time  to  which  you  are  entitled  by  virtue  of 
your  passage,  and  which  you  would  have 
spent  as  it  accrued  if  you  had  not  chosen  to 
deposit  it  with  us.  By  the  way,  when  you  are 
filling  up  cheques,  we  much  prefer  not  to  be 
called  upon  to  honor  drafts  for  less  than  fifteen 
minutes ;  as  much  more  as  you  like,  but  not 
less.  Well,  then,  we  may  consider  that  settled. 
I  am  extremely  glad  to  have  had  the  oppor- 
tunity of  obliging  you  ;  and  I  think  I  can 
promise  that  you  will  have  no  reason  to  re- 
pent of  having  made  such  a  use  of  your  time. 
I'll  wish  you  good-by  for  the  present,  sir  !  " 

The  Manager  resmned  his  hygienic  tramp 


28  ^Tourmalin's  STime  €l)eqijes. 

round  the  deck,  leaving  Peter  with  the  cheque- 
book in  his  liand.  He  was  no  longer  sur- 
prised :  now  that  he  was  more  familiar  with 
the  idea,  it  seemed  a  perfectly  natural  and 
matter-of-fact  arrangement ;  he  only  wondered 
that  he  had  never  thought  of  so  obvious  a 
plan  before.  And  it  was  an  immense  relief 
to  know  that  he  had  got  rid  of  his  extra  hours 
for  the  present,  at  all  events,  and  that  he  could 
now  postpone  them  to  a  period  at  which  they 
would  be  a  boon  rather  than  a  burden. 

And   very   soon   he   put   the    cheque-book 
away,  and  forgot  all  about  it. 


THE   STORY. 


CHAPTER  I. 
tourmalin's  first  cheque,   and  how   he 

TOOK   IT. 

Fidelity  Rewarded. — Love's  Catechism. — Bram-fag. — 
A  Timely  Recollection. — The  Experiment,  and  some 
{Startling  Residts, — Question  Time. — '■^  Dear  Friends.'^ 
— A  Compromise. 

Peter  Tourmalin's  probation  was  at  an  end, 
and,  what  was  more,  he  had  come  through 
the  ordeal  triumphantly.  How  he  managed 
this,  he  scarcely  knew ;  no  doubt  he  was  aided 
by  the  consciousness  that  the  extra  hours  which 
he  felt  hmiselt  most  liable  to  mis-spend  had 
been  placed  beyond  his  disposal.  At  all  events, 
when  he  met  Sophia  again,  he  had  been  able 
to  convince   her  that  her  doubts  of  his  con- 


30  ©onrtnaUn's  Qlimc  (t\}e(\ncs. 

stancj,  even  under  the  most  trying  conditions, 
were  entirely  undeserved,  Now  lie  was  re- 
ceiving his  recompense :  his  engagement  to 
Sophia  was  no  longer  conditional,  but  a  recog- 
nized and  irrevocable  fact.  It  is  superfluous 
to  say  that  he  was  happy.  Sophia  had  set  her- 
self to  repair  the  deficiencies  in  his  education 
and  culture ;  she  took  him  to  scientific  lectures 
and  classical  concerts,  and  made  him  read 
standard  authors  without  skipping.  He  felt 
himself  daily  acquiring  balance  and  serious- 
ness, and  an  accurate  habit  of  thought,  and 
all  the  other  qualities  which  Sophia  wished  i 
him  to  cultivate. 

Still,  there  were  moments  when  he  felt  the 
need  of  halting  and  recovering  his  wind,  so 
to  speak,  in  the  steep  and  toilsome  climb  to 
her  superior  mental  level — times  when  he  felt 
that  his  overtaxed  bram  absolutely  required 
relaxation  of  some  sort. 

He  felt  this  particularly  one  dreary  morn- 
ing, late  in  November,  as  he  sat  in  his  London 
chambers,  staring  with  lack -luster  eyes  at  the 
letter  he  had  that  day  received  from  his  be- 
trothed. For,  although  they  met  nearly  every 
day,  she  never  allowed  one  to  pass  without  a 


dTourmalin's  i^irst  €l)cque.  31 

letter — no  fond  and  foolish  effusion,  be  it  un- 
derstood, but  a  kind  of  epistolary  examination 
paper,  to  test  the  progress  he  was  making. 
This  one  contained  some  searching  questions 
on  Buckle's  History  of  Civilization,  which  he 
was  expected  to  answer  by  return  of  jDOst.  He 
was  not  supposed  to  look  at  the  book,  though 
he  had ;  and  even  then  he  felt  himself  scarcely 
better  fitted  to  floor  the  tremendous  posers  de- 
vised by  Sophia's  unwearying  care. 

The  day  before,  he  had  had  "  search-ques- 
tions" in  English  poetry  from  Chaucer  to 
Mr.  Lewis  Morris,  which  had  thinned  and 
whitened  his  hair ;  but  this  was,  if  possible, 
even  worse. 

He  wished  now  that  he  had  got  up  his 
Buckle  more  thoroughly  during  his  voyage  on 
the  Boomerang — and,  with  the  name,  his  ar- 
rangement with  the  manager  suddenly  rose  to 
his  recollection.  What  had  he  done  with  that 
book  of  Time  Cheques?  If  he  could  only 
get  away,  if  but  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour — 
away  from  those  somber  rooms,  with  their 
outlook  on  dingy  house-tops  and  a  murky, 
rhubarb-colored  sky — if  he  could  really  ex- 
change all  that  for  the  sunniness  and  warmth 


32  ®ottrmolin'0  ®ime  (!ri)equc0. 

and  delicious  idleness  which  had  once  seemed 
so  tedious,  what  a  rest  it  would  be !  And 
would  he  not  return  after  such  an  interlude 
with  all  his  faculties  invigorated,  and  better 
able  to  cope  with  the  task  he  now  found  almost 
insuperable  ? 

The  first  thing  was  to  find  the  cheque-book, 
which  did  not  take  him  long  ;  though  when  he 
had  found  it,  something  made  him  pause  be- 
fore filling  up  a  cheque.  What  if  he  had 
been  made  a  fool  of — if  the  Anglo- Australian 
Time  Cheque  Bank  never  existed,  or  had  sus- 
pended payment  ?  But  that  was  easily  settled 
by  presenting  a  cheque.  Why  should  he  not, 
just  by  way  of  experiment  ?  His  balance  was 
intact  as  yet ;  he  was  never  likely  to  need  a 
little  ready  time  more  than  he  did  just  then. 
He  would  draw  the  minimum  amount,  fifteen 
minutes,  and  see  how  the  system  worked. 

So,  although  he  had  little  real  confidence 
that  anything  would  happen  at  all,  he  drew  a 
cheque,  and  slipped  it  behind  the  frivolous  and 
rather  incorrect  little  ormolu  clock  upon  his 
chimey-piece. 

The  result  was  instantaneous,  and  altogether 
beyond  his  expectations !     The  four  walls  of 


STourmalin'a  iTirst  (t\)cc\ne.  33 

his  room  assumed  the  transparency  of  gauze 
for  a  second,  before  fading  entirely  away  ;  the 
olive  fog  changed  to  translucent  blue ;  there 
was  a  briny  breath  in  the  air,  and  he  himself 
was  leaning  upon  the  rail  at  the  forward  end 
of  the  hurricane-deck  of  the  Boomerang^  which 
was  riding  with  a  slow  and  stately  rise  and  fall 
over  the  heaving  swell. 

That  was  surprising  enough  ;  but  more  sur- 
prising still  was  the  discovery  that  he  was  ap- 
parently engaged  in  close  and  confidential  con- 
versation with  a  lovely  person  in  whom  he 
distinctly  recognized  Miss  Tyrrell. 

"  Yes,  I  forgive  you,  Mr.  Tourmalin,"  she 
was  saying,  with  an  evident  effort  to  suppress 
a  certain  agitation ;  but  indeed,  indeed^  you 
must  never  speak  to  me  like  that  again !  " 

Now,  as  Peter  was  certainly  not  conscious 
of  ever  having  spoken  to  her  at  all  in  his  life, 
this  was  naturally  a  startling  and  even  embar- 
assing  beginning. 

But  he  had  presence  of  mind  enough  to 
take  in  the  position  of  affairs,  and  adapt  him- 
self to  them.  This  was  one  of  the  quarters  of 
an  hour  he  ivonld  have  had,  and  it  was  clear 
that  in  some  portion  or   other   of   his  spare 

3 


34  2rourmalin'0  dCime  (SHjequea. 

time  he  would  have  made  Miss  Tyrrell's  ac- 
quaintance in  some  Avay.  Of  course  he  ought 
to  have  been  paid  that  particular  time  first ; 
but  he  could  easily  see  from  her  manner,  and 
the  almost  tender  friendliness  which  shone  in 
her  moistened  eyes,  that  at  this  period  they 
had  advanced  considerably  beyond  mere  ac- 
quaintanceship. There  had  been  some  little 
mistake  probably ;  the  cheques  had  been 
wrongly  numbered  perhaps,  or  else  they  were 
honored  without  regard  to  chronological  se- 
quence, which  was  most  confusing. 

Still,  he  had  nothing  to  do  but  conceal  his 
ignorance  as  well  as  he  could,  and  pick  up  the 
loose  threads  as  he  went  along.  He  was  able, 
at  all  events,  to  assure  her  that  he  would  not, 
if  he  could  help  it,  incur  her  displeasure  by 
speaking  to  her  "  like  that "  in  future. 

"  Thanks,"  she  said.  "  I  know  it  was  only 
a  temporary  forgetfulness ;  and — and  if  what 
you  suspect  should  prove  to  be  really  true — 
why,  then,  Mr.  Tourmalin,  then,  of  course,  you 
may  come  and  tell  me  so." 

"  I  will,"  he  said.  "  I  shall  make  a  point 
of  it.  Only,"  he  thought  to  himself,  "  she 
will  have  to  tell  me  first  what  I'm  to  tell  her." 


®0nrmahn'3  i^irst  Qri)cqnc.  35 

"  And  in  the  mean  time,"  she  said,  "  let  us 
go  on  as  before,  as  if  you  had  never  brought 
yourself  to  confide  your  sad  story  to  me." 

So  he  had  told  a  sad  story,  had  he?  he 
thought,  much  bewildered ;  for,  as  he  had  no 
story  belonging  to  him  of  that  character,  he 
was  afraid  he  must  have  invented  one,  while, 
of  course,  he  could  not  ask  for  information. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  with  great  presence  of 
mind,  "  forget  my  unhappy  story — let  it  never 
be  mentioned  between  us  again.  We  will  go 
on  as  before — exactly  as  before." 

"  It  is  our  only  course,"  she  agreed.  "  And 
now,"  she  added,  with  a  cheerfulness  that 
struck  him  as  a  little  forced,  "  suppose  we 
talk  of  something  else." 

Peter  considered  this  a  good  suggestion,  pro- 
vided it  was  a  subject  he  knew  a  little  more 
about ;  which,  unhappily,  it  was  not. 

"  You  never  answered  my  question,"  she 
reminded  him. 

He  would  have  liked,  as  Ministers  say  in  the 
House,  "  previous  notice  of  that  question  ; " 
but  he  could  hardly  say  so  in  so  many  words. 

"  No,"  he  said.  "  Forgive  me  if  I  say  that 
it  is  a — a  painful  subject  to  me." 


36  SCotirmohn's  ®itne  ^l)cqijes. 

"  I  understand  that,"  she  said  gently  (it 
was  more  than  he  did) ;  "  but  tell  me  only 
this  :  was  it  that  that  made  you  behave  as 
you  did  ?  You  are  sure  you  had  no  other 
reason  ? " 

["  If  I  said  I  had,"  thought  Peter,  "  she  will 
ask  me  what  it  was."]  "  I  will  be  as  frank 
as  possible,  Miss  Tyrrell,"  he  replied.  "  I 
had  no  other  reason.  "Wliat  other  reason 
could  I  have  had  ?  " 

"  I  half  fancied — but  I  ought  to  have  seen 
from  the  first  that,  whatever  it  was,  it  was  not 
that.  And  now  you  have  made  everything 
quite  clear." 

"  I  am  glad  you  find  it  so,"  said  Peter,  with 
a  touch  of  envy. 

"  But  I  might  have  gone  on  misunderstand- 
ing and  misjudging,  putting  you  down  as 
proud  and  cold  and  misociable,  or  prejudiced, 
but  for  the  accident  which  brought  us  togeth- 
er, in  spite  of  your  determination  that  we 
should  remain  total  strangers." 

It  was  an  accident  which  had  made  them 
acquainted,  then.  He  would  draw  the  cheque 
which  contained  that  episode  of  his  extra 
time  sooner  or  later ;  but  it  was  distinctly  in- 


®ourmoiin'0  i^irst  (jri)cquc.  37 

convenient  not  to  have  at  least  some  idea  of 
what  had  happened. 

"  A  fortunate  accident  for  me,  at  all  events," 
he  said  with  a  judicious  recourse  to  compli- 
ment, 

"  It  might  have  been  a  very  unfortunate 
one  for  poor  papa,"  she  said,  "  but  for  you. 
I  do  believe  he  would  have  been  quite  incon- 
solable." 

Peter  felt  an  agreeable  shock.  Had  he 
really  been  fortunate  enough  to  distinguish 
himself  by  rescuing  the  Judge's  fair  daughter 
from  some  deadly  peril  ?  It  looked  very  like 
it.  He  had  often  suspected  himself  of  a  latent 
heroism  which  had  never  had  an  oj^portunity 
of  being  displayed.  This  opportunity  must 
have  occurred,  and  he  have  proved  equal  to 
the  occasion,  in  one  of  those  extra  hours ! 

"  I  can  quite  imagine  that  he  would  be  in- 
consolable indeed  !  "  he  said  gallantly.  "  For- 
tunately, I  was  privileged  to  prevent  such  a 
calamity." 

"  Tell  me  again  exactly  how  you  did  it," 
she  said.     "  I  never  quite  understood." 

Peter  again  took  refuge  in  a  discreet  vague- 
ness. 


38  tourmalin's  Stinte  (t\)eqnes. 

"  Oh,"  he  replied,  modestly,  "  there  is  not 
much  to  tell.  I  saw  the — er — danger,  and 
knew  there  wasn't  a  moment  to  lose ;  and 
then  I  sprang  forward,  and — well,  you  know 
the  rest  as  well  as  I  do  !  " 

"  You  only  just  caught  him  as  he  was  going 
up  the  rigging,  didn't  you  ? "  she  asked. 

So  it  was  the  Judge  he  had  saved — not  liis 
daughter !  Peter  felt  a  natural  disappoint- 
ment. But  he  saw  the  state  of  the  case  now : 
a  powerful  judicial  intellect  over-strained,  mel- 
anchoha,  suicidal  impulses — it  Avas  all  very 
sad ;  but  haj^pily  he  had  succeeded  in  saving 
this  man  to  his  country. 

"  I — ventured  to  detain  him,"  he  said,  con- 
siderately, "  seeing  that  he  was — er — rather 
excited." 

"  But  weren't  you  afraid  he  would  bite  you  ? " 

"  No,"  said  Peter,  pained  at  this  revelation 
of  the  Judge's  condition,  "  that  possibility  did 
not  occur  to  me.  In  fact  I  am  sure  that — er 
— thouo;h  the  strono;est  intellects  are  occasion- 
ally  subject  to  attacks  of  this  sort,  he  would 
never  so  far  forgot  himself  as  to — er — bite  a 
complete  stranger." 

"  All ! "  she  said,  "  you  don't  know  what  a 


STottrmalin's  i^irst  (dbcquc.  39 

savage  old  creature  he  can  be  sometimes.  He 
never  ought  to  be  let  loose ;  I'm  sure  he's 
dangerous !  " 

"  Oh  !  but  think,  Miss  Tyrrell,"  remonstrated 
Peter,  unmistakably  shocked  at  this  unfilial 
attitude  toward  a  distinguished  parent ;  "  if 
he  was — er — dangerous,  he  would  not  be  upon 
the  Bench  now,  surely ! " 

She  glanced  over  her  shoulder  with  evident 
apprehension. 

"  How  you  frightened  me  !  "  she  said.  "  I 
thought  he  was  really  there !  But  I  hoj)e 
they'll  shut  him  up  in  future,  so  that  he  won't 
be  able  to  do  any  more  mischief.  You  didn't 
tell  me  how  you  got  hold  of  him.  "Was  it  by 
his  chain  or  his  tail  ? " 

Peter  did  not  know ;  and,  besides,  it  was  as 
difficult  for  him  to  picture  himself  in  the  act 
of  seizing  a  hypochondriacal  judge  by  his 
watch-chain  or  coat-tail,  as  it  was  for  him  to 
comprehend  the  utter  want  of  feeling  that 
could  jDrompt  such  a  question  from  the  suffer- 
er's own  daughter. 

"  I  hope,"  he  said,  with  a  gravity  which  he 
intended  as  a  rebuke—"  I  hope  I  treated  him 
with  all  the  respect  and  consideration  possible 


40  STourmalin's  SCime  (Il)cques. 

under  the — er — circumstances.  ...  I  am  sorry 
that  that  remark  appears  to  amuse  you  !  " 

For  Miss  Tyrrell  was  actually  laughing,  with 
a  merriment  in  which  there  was  nothing 
forced. 

"  How  can  I  help  it  ?  "  she  said,  as  soon 
as  she  could  speak.  "  It  is  too  funny  to  hear 
you  talking  of  being  regretful  and  considerate 
to  a  horrid  monkey  !  " 

"  A  tnonkey  !  "  he  repeated  involuntarily. 

So  it  was  a  monkey  that  was  under  restraint 
and  not  a  Judge  of  her  Majesty's  Supreme 
Court  of  Judicature  ;  a  discovery  wfiicli  left 
him  as  much  in  the  dark  as  to  what  particular 
service  he  had  rendered  as  ever,  and  made 
him  tremble  to  think  what  he  might  have 
said.  But  apparently,  by  singular  good  for- 
tune, he  had  not  committed  himself  beyond 
recovery ;  for  Miss  Tyrrell  only  said  : 

"  I  thought  you  were  speaking  of  the  monk- 
ey, the  little  wretch  that  came  up  behind  papa 
and  snatched  away  all  his  notes — the  notes 
he  had  made  for  the  great  case  he  tried  last 
term,  and  has  to  deliver  judgment  upon  when 
the  Courts  sit  again.  Surely  he  told  you  how 
important  they   were,   and   how   awkward  it 


tourmalin's  i'irst  Qllicquc.  41 

would  have  been  if  the  monkey  had  escaped 
with  them,  and  torn  them  into  pieces  or  dropped 
them  into  the  sea  ? — as  he  probably  would  liave 
done  but  for  you  !  " 

"  Oh,  ah,  yes !  "  said  Peter,  feeling  slightly 
crest-fallen,  for  he  had  hoped  he  had  per- 
formed a  more  dashing  deed  than  catching  a 
loose  monkey.  "  I  believe  your  father — Sir 
John  ? "  he  hazarded  ...  "  Sir  William,  of 
course,  thank  you  .  .  .  did  mention  the  fact. 
But  it  really  was  such  a  trifling  thing  to  do." 

"  Papa  didn't  think  so,"  she  said.  "  He  de- 
clares he 'can  never  be  grateful  enough  to  you. 
And,  whatever  it  was,"  she  added  softly,  and 
even  shjdy,  "  I,  at  least,  can  never  think  lightly 
of  a  service  which  has — has  made  us  what  we 
are  to  one  another." 

What  they  were  to  one  another !  And 
what  was  that?  A  dreadful  uncertainty 
seized  upon  Peter.  "Was  it  possil^le  that,  in 
some  way  he  did  not  understand,  he  was  en- 
gaged to  this  very  charming  girl,  who  Avas 
almost  a  stranger  to  him?  The  mere  idea 
froze  his  blood ;  for  if  that  was  so,  how  did 
it  affect  his  position  toward  Sophia  ?  At  all 
hazards,  he  must  know  the  worst  at  once ! 


42  (Jourmalin'a  QLime  (Hljcqtice. 

"  Tell  me,"  lie  said  witli  trembling  accents, — 
"  I  know  you  have  told  me  already,  but  tell  me 
once  more — precisely  what  we  are  to  one  an- 
other at  present.  It  would  be  so  much  more 
satisfactory  to  my  mind,"  he  added,  in  a  de- 
precatory tone,  "to  have  that  clearly  under- 
stood." 

"I  thought  I  had  made  it  quite  clear  al- 
ready," she  said,  with  the  least  suspicion  of 
coldness,  "  that  we  can  be  nothing  more  to  one 
another  than  friends." 

The  relief  was  almost  too  much  for  him. 
What  a  dear,  good,  sensible  girl  she  was ! 
How  perfectly  she  appreciated  the  facts  ! 

"  Friends  !  "  he  cried.  "  Is  that  all  f  Do 
you  really  mean  we  are  nothing  more  than 
friends  ? " 

He  caught  her  hand,  in  the  fervor  of  his 
gratitude,  and  she  allowed  it  to  remain  in  his 
grasp ;  which  in  the  altered  state  of  things, 
he  found  rather  pleasant  than  otherwise. 

"  Ah !  "  she  murmured,  "  don't  ask  me  for 
more  than  I  have  said — more  than  I  can  ever 
say,  perhaps !  Let  us  be  content  with  remain- 
ing friends — dear  friends,  if  you  like — but  no 
more ! " 


(Sourmolm  6  i^irst  €Iicqnc.  43 

"  I  will,"  said  Peter  promptly,  "  I  will  be  con- 
tent. Dear  friends,  by  all  means ;  but  no  more ! " 

"  No,"  she  assented  ;  "  miless  a  time  should 
come  when — " 

"Yes,"  said  Peter,  encouragingly,  as  she 
hesitated.  "  You  were  about  to  say,  a  time 
when —  ? " 

Her  lips  moved,  a  faint  flush  stole  into  her 
cheeks  ;  she  was  about  to  complete  her  sen- 
tence, when  her  hand  seemed  to  melt  away  in 
his  own,  and  he  stood,  grasping  the  empty  air, 
by  his  own  mantelpiece.  The  upper  deck, 
the  heaving  bows,  the  blue  seaboard,  Miss  Tyr- 
rell herself,  all  had  vanished ;  and  in  their 
stead  were  the  familiar  surroundings  of  his 
chamber,  the  grimy  London  housefronts,  and 
Sophia's  list  of  questions  lying  still  unanswered 
upon  his  writing-table  !  His  fifteen  minutes 
had  come  to  an  end  ;  the  cheque  was  nowhere 
to  be  seen.  The  minute-hand  of  his  clock  had 
not  moved  since  he  last  saw  it ;  but  this  last 
circumstance,  as  he  saw  on  reflection,  was  only 
natural,  for  otherwise  the  Time  Deposit  would 
have  conferred  no  real  advantage,  as  he  would 
never  have  regained  the  hours  he  had  tempo- 
rarily foregone. 


44  ®0urmaUn's  QLime  QTlieqnce. 

For  some  time  Peter  sat  perfectly  still,  with 
his  head  between  his  hands,  occupied  in  a  men- 
tal review  of  this  his  initial  experience  of  the 
cheque-book  system.  It  was  as  different  as 
possible  from  the  spell  of  perfect  rest  he  had 
anticipated ;  but  had  it  been  unpleasant  on 
that  account  ?  In  spite  of  an  element  of  mys- 
tification at  starting,  which  was  inevitable,  he 
was  obliged  to  admit  to  himself  that  he  had 
enjoyed  this  little  adventure  more  than  per- 
haps he  should  have  done.  With  all  his 
attachment  to  Sophia,  he  could  hardly  be  in- 
sensible to  the  privilege  of  suddenly  finding 
himself  the  friend — and  more  than  that,  the 
dear  friend — of  so  delightful  a  girl  as  this 
Miss  Tyrrell. 

There  was  a  strange  charm,  a  peculiar  and 
quite  platonic  tenderness  about  an  intimacy  of 
this  peculiar  and  unprecedented  nature,  which 
increased  at  every  fresh  recollection  of  it.  It 
increased  so  rapidly  indeed,  that  almost  uncon- 
sciously he  drew  the  cheque-book  toward  him, 
and  began  to  fill  up  another  cheque  with  a 
view  to  an  immediate  return  to  the  Boomer- 
ang. 

But  when  he  had  torn  the  cheque  out,  he 


9Cottrmalin'0  i^irst  (Hljcqnc.  45 

hesitated.  It  was  all  quite  harmless :  the  most 
severe  moralist  could  not  convict  him  of  even 
the  most  shadowy  infidelity  toward  In&Jlancee, 
if  he  chose  to  go  back  and  follow  up  a  purely 
retrospective  episode  like  this — an  episode 
which  interested  and  fascinated  him  so  strongly 
— only,  what  would  Sophia  say  to  it?  In- 
stinctively he  felt  that  the  situation,  innocent 
as  it  was,  would  fail  to  commend  itself  to  her. 
He  had  no  intention  of  informing  her,  it  was 
true  ;  but  he  knew  that  he  was  a  poor  dis- 
sembler— he  might  easily  betray  himself  in 
some  unguarded  moment,  and  then —  ]^o ! 
it  was  vexing,  no  doubt ;  but  upon  the  whole, 
it  was  wiser  and  better  to  renounce  those  addi- 
tional hours  on  board  the  Boomerang  alto- 
gether— to  allow  this  past,  that  never  had,  but 
only  might  have  been,  to  remain  unsummoned 
and  unknown  forever.  Otherwise,  who  could 
tell  that,  by  gradual  assaults,  even  such  an  af- 
fection as  he  had  for  Sophia  might  not  be 
eventually  undermined. 

But  this  fear,  as  he  saw  the  next  moment, 
was  almost  too  extravagant  to  be  seriously 
taken  into  account.  He  felt  notliing,  and 
never  could  feel  anything,  but  warm  and  sin- 


46  STonrmalin's  (ZTime  Ctl)eques. 

cere  friendship  for  Miss  Tyrrell';  and  it  was 
satisfactory  to  know  that  she  was  in  no  danger 
of  mistaking  his  sentiments.  Still,  of  course 
there  was  always  a  certain  risk,  particularly 
when  he  was  necessarily  in  ignorance  of  all 
that  had  preceded  and  followed  the  only  col- 
loquy they  had  had  as  yet.  At  last  he  decided 
upon  a  compromise :  he  would  not  cash  that 
second  cheque  for  the  present,  at  all  events ; 
he  would  reserve  it  for  an  emergency,  and 
only  use  it  if  he  was  absolutely  driven  to  do  so 
as  a  mental  tonic.  Perhaps  Soj)hia  would  not 
compel  him  to  such  a  necessity  again ;  he 
hoped — at  least  he  tlioiiglit  she  would  not. 

So  he  put  the  unpresented  cheque  in  an  in- 
ner pocket,  and  set  to  work  with  desperate 
energy  at  his  examination-paper  ;  although 
his  recent  change  must  have  proved  less  stimu- 
lating to  his  jaded  faculties  than  he  had  hoped, 
since  Sophia,  after  reading  his  answers,  made 
the  cutting  remark  that  she  scarcely  knew 
which  he  had  more  completely  failed  to 
apprehend — the  purport  of  his  author,  or 
that  of  the  very  simple  questions  she  had 
set  him. 

Peter  could  not  help  thinking,  rather  rue- 


dottrmalin's  i^irst  dieqne.  47 

fully,  that  Miss  Tyrrell  Avould  never  have 
been  capable  of  such  severity  as  that ;  but, 
then,  Miss  Tyrrell  was  not  his  fiancee^  only 
a  very  dear  friend,  whom  he  would,  most  proba- 
bly, never  meet  again. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE   SECOND   CHEQUE. 


Furnishing. — A  Cosy  Corner. — ^'■Sitting  Out." — Fresh 
Discoveries. —  Twice  a  Hero.  —  Bewilderment  and 
Bathos. 

The  knowledge  tliat  one  has  a  remedy  witli- 
in  reach  is  often  as  effectual  as  the  remedy  it- 
self, if  Hot  more  so ;  which  may  account  for 
the  fact  that,  although  a  considerable  number 
of  weeks  had  elapsed  since  Peter  Tourmalin 
had  dra^vn  his  second  cheque  on  the  Anglo- 
Australian  Joint  Stock  Time  Bank,  that  cheque 
still  remained  unpresented. 

The  day  fixed  for  his  wedding  with  Sophia 
was  drawing  near ;  the  flat  in  the  Marylebone 
Road,  which  was  to  be  the  scene  of  their  joint 
fehcity,  had  to  be  furnished,  and  this  occupied 
most  of  his  time.  Sophia  took  the  entire  busi- 
ness upon  herself,  for  she  had  scientific  theo- 


(S;i]C  Seconb  €l)cque.  49 

ries  on  the  subject  of  decoration  and  color  liar- 
monies  which  Peter  could  only  accept  with 
admiring  awe ;  but,  nevertheless,  she  required 
him  to  be  constantly  at  hand,  so  that  she  could 
consult  him  after  her  own  mind  had  been  ir- 
revocably made  up. 

One  February  afternoon  he  was  wandering 
rather  disconsolately  about  the  labyrinthine 
passages  of  one  of  the  monster  upholstery  es- 
tablishments in  the  Tottenham  Court  Road,  his 
chief  object  being  to  evade  the  courtesies  of 
the  numerous  assistants  as  they  anxiously  in- 
quired what  they  might  have  the  pleasure  of 
showing  him.  He  and  Sophia  had  been  there 
since  midday;  and  she  had  sat  in  judgment 
upon  carpets  which  were  brought  out,  plung- 
ing like  unbroken  colts,  by  panting  foremen, 
and  unrolled  before  her  in  a  blinding  riot  of 
color,  Peter  had  only  to  express  the  mildest 
commendation  of  any  carpet  to  seal  that  car- 
pet's doom  instantly ;  so  that  he  soon  abstained 
from  personal  interference. 

ISTow  Sophia  was   in  the  ironmongery   de- 
partment,  choosing  kitchen  utensils,   and  his 
opinion  being  naturally  of  no  value  on  such 
matters,   he   was  free   to  roam   wherever  he 
4 


50  ©ourmalin's  (J^imc  €l)cqnes. 

pleased  within  the  hinits  of  the  building.  He 
felt  tired  and  rather  faint,  for  he  had  had  no 
lunch ;  and  presently  he  came  to  a  series  of 
show-rooms  fitted  up  as  rooms  in  various  styles : 
there  was  one  inviting-looking  interior,  with 
an  elaborate  chimneypiece  which  had  cosy 
cushioned  nooks  on  either  side  of  the  fireplace, 
and  into  one  of  these  corners  he  sank  with 
heartfelt  gratitude ;  for  it  was  a  comfortable 
seat,  and  he  had  not  sat  down  for  hours.  But 
as  his  weariness  wore  away,  he  felt  the  wa7it 
of  something  to  occupy  his  mind,  and  searched 
in  his  pockets  to  see  if  he  had  any  letters 
there — even  notes  of  congratulation  upon  his 
approaching  marriage  would  be  better  than 
nothing  in  his  present  reduced  condition.  But 
he  had  left  all  his  correspondence  at  his  cham- 
bers. The  only  document  he  came  upon  was 
the  identical  time  cheque  he  had  drawn  long 
ago  :  it  was  creased  and  rumpled  ;  but  none  the 
less  negotiable,  if  he  could  find  a  clock.  And 
on  the  built-up  chimneypiece  there  was  a  clock, 
a  small  Juience  affair  surmounted  by  a  Japanese 
monster  in  peacock-blue.  Moreover,  by  some 
chance,  this  clock  was  actually  going — he  could 
hear  it  ticking  as  he  sat  there.    Should  he  pre- 


Ql\)C  Scconb  €l)cqnc.  51 

sent  his  cheque  or  not ;  lie  was  feeling  a  little 
aggrieved  at  Sophia's  treatment  of  him,  she  had 
snubbed  him  so  unmercifully  over  the  carpets ; 
it  was  pleasant  to  think  that,  if  he  chose,  he 
could  transport  himself  that  very  instant  to 
the  society  of  a  sweet  and  appreciative  com- 
panion from  whom  snubbing  was  the  last 
thing  to  be  apprehended. 

Yes ;  Sophia's  treatment  quite  justified  him 
in  making  an  exception  to  the  rule  he  had  laid 
down  for  himself  —  he  would  present  that 
cheque.  And  he  rose  softly  from  his  seat  and 
pushed  the  cheque  under  the  little  time- 
piece. .  .  . 

As  before,  his  draft  was  honored  immedi- 
ately ;  he  found  himself  on  a  steamer-chair  in 
a  sheltered  passage  between  two  of  the  deck- 
cabins.  It  was  night,  and  he  could  not  clearly 
distinguish  any  objects  around  him  for  some 
little  time,  owing  to  the  darkness  ;  but  from  a 
glimmer  of  white  drapery  that  was  faintly 
visible  close  by,  he  easily  inferred  that  there 
was  another  chair  adjoining  his,  which  could 
only  be  occupied  by  Miss  Tyrrell.  He  could 
just  hear  the  ship's  band  playing  a  waltz  at 
the  further  end  of  the  ship ;  it  was  one  of  the 


52  STourmalin's  STimc  (fHiequcs. 

evenings  when  there  had  been  dancing,  and  he 
and  Miss  Tyrrell  were  sitting  out  together. 

All  this  he  realized  instantly,  and  not  with- 
out a  thrill  of  interest  and  expectation,  which, 
however,  the  first  words  she  uttered  were  suffi- 
cient to  reduce  to  the  most  prosaic  perplexity. 

"  What  have  I  said  ? "  she  was  moaning,  in 
a  voice  hardly  recognizable  from  emotion  and 
the  fleecy  wrap  in  which  her  face  was  muffled 
— "  oh !  what  have  I  said  ? " 

Peter  was  naturally  powerless  to  afford  her 
any  information  on  tliis  point,  even  if  she 
really  required  it;  he  made  a  rapid  mental 
note  to  the  effect  that  their  intimacy  had  e\'i- 
dently  made  great  progress  since  their  last  in- 
terview. 

"  I'm  afraid,"  he  said,  deciding  that  candor 
was  his  only  course,  "  I  can't  exactly  tell  you 
what  you  did  say ;  for,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I 
didn't  quite  catch  it." 

"  Ah !  you  say  that  to  spare  me,"  she  mur- 
mured ;  "  you  must  have  heard  ;  but,  promise 
me  you  will  forget  it  ?  " 

"Willingly,"  said  Peter,  with  the  greatest 
readiness  to  oblige ;  "  I  will  consider  it  forgot- 
ten." 


a;i)e  Bcconb  (!ri)cqne.  53 

"  If  I  conld  but  hope  tliat  !  "  she  said. 
"  And,  yet,"  she  added  recklessly,  "  why  should 
I  care  what  I  say  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure,"  agreed  Tourmalin  at  random, 
"why  should  you,  you  know?" 

"  You  must  have  seen  from  the  first  that  I 
was  very  far  from  being  happy  ? " 

"  I  must  confess,"  said  Peter,  with  the  air  of 
a  man  whom  nothing  escaped,  "  that  I  did  ob- 
serve that." 

"  And  you  were  right !  Was  it  unnatural 
that  I  should  be  nothing  but  grateful  to  the 
chance  which  first  brought  us  together  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Peter,  delighted  to  feel 
himself  on  solid  ground  again  ;  "  indeed,  if  I 
may  speak  for  myself,  I  have  even  greater 
reason  to  feel  grateful  to  that  monkey." 

"  To  ^vhat  monkey  ? "  she  exclaimed. 

"  Why,  naturally,  my  dear  Miss  Tyrrell,  to 
the  animal  which  was  the  unconscious  instru- 
ment in  making  us  acquainted.  You  surely 
can  not  have  forgotten  already  that  it  was  a 
monkey  ? " 

She  half  rose  with  an  impetuous  movement, 
the  mantilla  fell  from  her  face,  and  even  in 
the  faint  starlight,  he  could  perceive  that,  beau- 


54  Scurmalin's  (ZCimc  (!ll)eque0. 

tiful  as  that  face  nndouljtedly  was,  it  was  as 
certainly  not  the  face  of  Miss  Tyrrell ! 

"  T^ou  seem  to  have  forgotten  a  great  deal," 
she  retorted,  with  a  suppressed  sob  in  her 
voice,  "  or  you  would  at  least  remember  that 
my  name  is  Davenport.  Why  you  should 
choose  to  call  me  Miss  Tyrrell,  whom  I  don't 
even  know  by  sight,  I  can't  conceive  !  " 

Here  was  a  discovery,  and  a  startling  one ! 
It  appeared  that  he  had  not  merely  one,  but 
two  dear  friends  on  board  this  P.  and  O. 
steamer ;  and  the  second  seemed,  if  possible, 
even  dearer  than  the  first!  He  must  have 
made  the  very  most  of  those  extra  hours  ! 

There  was  one  comfort,  however.  Miss  Dav- 
enport did  not,  contrary  to  his  impression, 
know  Miss  Tyrrell ;  so  that  they  need  not 
necessarily  clash — still,  it  was  undeniably  awk- 
ward. He  had  to  get  out  of  his  mistake  as 
well  as  he  could,  which  was  but  lamely. 

"  "Why,  of  course,^''  he  protested,  "  I  know 
you  are  Miss  Davenport.  Most  stupid  of  me 
to  address  you  as  Miss  Tyrrell !  The — the 
only  explanation  I  can  offer  is,  that  before  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  speaking  to  you,  I  was 
under  the  impression  that  your  proper  name 


®l)e  Scconb  (Eljcque.  55 

was  Tyrrell,  and  so  it  slipped  out  again  just 
then  from  habit." 

This — though  the  literal,  if  not  the  moral, 
truth — did  not  seem  to  satisfy  her  entirely. 

"  That  may  be  so,"  she  said,  curtly ;  "  still 
it  does  not  explain  why  you  should  address 
me  as  Miss  Anybody,  after  asking  and  re- 
ceiving permission,  only  last  night,  to  call  me 
by  my  Christian  name  !  " 

Obviously  their  relations  were  even  closer 
than  he  had  imagined.  He  had  no  idea  they 
had  got  as  far  as  Christian  names  already, 
any  more  than  he  had  of  what  hers  might  hap- 
pen to  be. 

There  was  a  painful  want  of  method  in  the 
manner  this  Time  Bank  conducted  its  business, 
as  he  could  not  help  remarking  to  himself ; 
however,  Peter,  perhaps,  from  the  very  ti- 
midity in  his  character,  developed  unexpected 
adroitness  in  a  situation  of  some  difficulty. 

"  So  you  did  !  "  he  said.  "  You  allowed 
me  to  call  you  by  your — er — Christian  name  ; 
but  I  value  such  a  privilege  too  highly  to  use 
it — er — indiscriminately." 

"  You  are  very  strange  to-night !  "  she  said, 
with  a  plaintive  and  almost  childish  quiver  of 


56  Stourmalin's  ®imc  dlimncs. 

the  lip.  "  First  you  call  me  '  Miss  Tyrrell ' 
and  then  '  Miss  Davenport,'  and  then  you  will 
have  it  that  we  were  introduced  by  a  monkey  ! 
As  if  I  should  ever  allow  a  monkey  to  intro- 
duce anybody  to  me  !  Is  saving  a  girl's  life 
such  an  ordinary  event  with  you,  that  you 
forget  all  about  such  a  trifle  %  " 

This  last  sentence  compensated  Peter  for  all 
that  had  gone  before.  Here  was  a  peison 
whose  life  he  really  had  saved  ;  and  his  heart 
warmed  to  her  from  that  moment.  Rescuins: 
a  girl  from  imminent  bodily  peril  was  a  more 
heroic  achievement  than  capturing  the  most 
mischievous  of  monkeys ;  and,  besides,  he  felt 
it  was  far  more  in  his  style.  So  it  was  in 
his  best  manner  he  repHed  to  her  question  : 

''  It  would  be  strange,  indeed,"  he  said  re- 
proachfully, "  If  I  could  ever  f oi*get  that  I  was 
the  hmnble  means  of  preserving  you  from — 
from  a  watery  grave  " — (he  risked  the  epithet, 
concluding  that  on  a  voyage  it  could  hardly  be 
any  other  descriiDtion  of  grave ;  and  she  did 
not  challenge  it,  so  he  continued) — "  a  watery 
grave ;  but  I  had  hoped  you  would  appreciate 
the  motive  which  restrained  me  from — er — 
seeming  to  dwell  upon  such  a  circumstance." 


®l)e  Scconb  (tljcqnc.  57 

This  appeal,  unprincipled  as  it  was,  subdued 
her  instantly. 

"  Oh,  forgive  me ! "  she  said,  putting  out  her 
hand  with  the  prettiest  penitence.  "  I  might 
have  known  you  better  than  that.  I  didn't 
mean  it.  Please  say  you  forgive  me,  and — and 
call  me  Maud  again  !  " 

Relief  at  being  supplied  with  a  missing 
clew  made  Peter  reckless  ;  indeed,  it  is  to  be 
feared  that  demoralization  had  already  set  in  ; 
he  took  the  hand  she  gave  him,  and  it  did 
not  occur  to  him  to  let  it  go  immediately. 

"  Maud,  then,"  he  said  obediently ;  "  I  for- 
give you,  Maud." 

It  was  a  prettier  name  to  pronounce  than 
Sophia. 

"  How  curious  it  is,"  she  was  saying,  dream- 
ily, as  she  nestled  comfortably  in  her  chair  be- 
side him,  "  that,  up  to  the  very  moment  when 
yon  rushed  forward  that  day,  I  scarcely  gave 
your  existence  a  thought!  And  now — how 
little  we  ever  know  what  is  going  to  happen  to 
us,  do  we  ?  " 

["  Or  what  has  happened,  for  that  mat- 
ter ! "  he  thought.]  This  time  he  would  not 
commit  himself  to  details  until  he  could  learn 


58  StoitrntflUn's  ®imc  €l)eqttC6. 

more  about  the  precise  nature  of  his  dauntless 
act,  which  he  at  once  proceeded  to  do. 

"I  should  very  much  like  to  know,"  he 
suggested,  "  what  your  sensations  were  at  that 
critical  moment." 

"  My  sensations  ?  I  hardly  know,"  she  said, 
"I  remember  leaning  over  the — bulwarks,  is 
it  ? "  (Peter  said  it  was  bulwarks) — "  the  bul- 
warks, watching  a  sailor  in  a  little  balcony  be- 
low, who  was  doing  something  with  a  long 
line—" 

"  Heaving  the  lead,"  said  Peter  ;  "  so  he 
was — go  on  !  " 

He  was  intensely  excited  ;  it  was  all  plain 
enough  :  she  had  lost  her  balance  and  fallen 
overboard ;  he  had  plunged  in,  and  gallantly 
kept  her  above  water  till  help  arrived.  He 
had  always  known  he  was  capable  of  this  sort 
of  thing  ;  now  he  had  proved  it, 

" — When  all  at  once,"  she  continued,  "I 
felt  myself  roughly  dragged  back  by  somebody 
— that  was  you  !  I  was  rather  angry  for  the 
moment,  for  it  did  seem  quite  a  liberty  for  a 
total  stranger  to  take,— when,  that  very  in- 
stant, I  saw  the  line  with  a  great  heavy  lump 
of  lead  at  the  end  of  it  whirled  round  exactly 


®l)c  Scronb  Qllicqnc.  59 

where  my  head  had  been,  and  then  I  knew 
that  I  owed  my  life  to  your  j)i'Gsence  of 
mind  ! " 

Peter  was  more  than  disappointed — he  was 
positively  disgusted  at  this  exceedingly  tame 
conclusion  ;  it  did  seem  hard  that,  even  under 
conditions  when  any  act  of  daring  might  have 
been  possible  to  him,  he  could  do  nothing 
more  brilliant  than  this.  It  was  really  worse 
than  the  monkey  business  ! 

"  I'm  afraid  you  make  too  much  of  the 
very  little  I  did,"  he  said. 

"Do  I?  Perhaps  that  is  because  if  you 
had  not  done  it,  we  should  never  come  to  know 
one  another  as  we  do !  "  (So  far,  it  was  a  very 
one-sided  sort  of  knowledge,  Peter  thought.) 
"And  yet,"  she  added,  with  a  long-drawn 
sigh,  "  I  sometimes  think  that  we  should 
both  be  happier  if  we  never  had  known  one 
another ;  if  you  had  stood  aside,  and  the  lead 
had  struck  me  and  I  had  died  !  " 

"  ISTo,  no  !  "  said  Peter,  unfeignedly  alarmed 
at  this  morbid  reflection,  "  you  mustn't  take 
such  a  gloomy  view  of  it  as  all  that,  you 
know! " 

"Why  not?"  she  said,  in  a   somber  tone. 


60  STourtnalin's  ©ime  Clieques. 

"  It  is  gloomy — how  gloomy  I  know  better 
than  you ! "  ("  She  might  well  do  that," 
thought  Tourmalin.)  "Why  did  I  not  see 
that  I  was  slowly,  imperceptibly  drifting — 
drifting  ? " 

"  Well,"  said  Peter,  with  a  levity  he  was  far 
from  feeling,  "  if  the  drifting  was  impercepti- 
ble, you  naturally  woiddnH  see  it,  you  know  !  " 

"  You  might  have  spared  a  joke  at  such  a 
time  as  this !  "  she  cried,  indignantly. 

"  I — I  wasn't  aware  there  was  a  close  time  for 
jokes,"  he  said,  humbly ;  "  not  that  it  was 
much  of  a  joke  ! " 

"  Indeed  it  was  not,"  she  replied.  "  But 
oh,  Peter,  now  we  have  both  drifted !  "  "  Have 
we  ?  "  he  exclaimed,  blankly.  "  I — I  mean — 
haveiiH  we !  " 

"I  was  so  blind — so  willfully,  foolishly 
blind  !     I  told  myself  we  were  friends  !  " 

"  Surely  Ave  are  ? "  he  said  retaking  posses- 
sion of  her  hand ;  he  had  entirely  forgotten 
Sophia  in  the  ironmongery  department,  at 
Tottenham  Court  Road.  "  I — I  understood  we 
were  on  that  footing  ?  " 

"  ]^o,"  she  said,  "  let  us  have  no  subterfuges 
any   more — we   must   look  facts  in  the  face. 


®l)e  Seconb  (fll)cquc.  Gl 

After  what  we  have  both  said  to-night,  we 
can  no  longer  deceiv^e  ourselves  by  words. 
.  .  .  Peter,"  she  broke  off  suddenly,  "  I  am 
going  to  ask  you  a  question,  and  on  your  an- 
swer my  fate — and  yours  too,  perhaps — will 
depend  !  Tell  me  truthfully  .  .  ."  Her  voice 
failed  her  for  the  moment,  as  she  bent  over 
toward  him,  and  clutched  his  arm  tightly  in 
her  excitement;  her  eyes  shone  with  a  wild, 
intense  eagerness  for  his  reply.  ..."  Would 
you — "  she  repeated  .  .  . 

"  Would  you  have  the  bottle-jack  all  brass, 
or  japanned  ?  The  brass  ones  are  a  shilling 
more." 

Peter  gave  a  violent  start,  for  the  voice  in 
which  this  most  incongruous  and  irrelevant 
question  was  put  was  that  of  Sophia ! 

Miss  Davenport  with  her  hysterical  appeal, 
the  steamer-chairs,  and  the  starlight,  all  had 
fled,  and  he  stood,  supporting  himself  limply 
by  the  arm  of  the  chimney-nook  in  the  uphol- 
sterer's showroom,  staring  at  Sophia,  who 
stood  there,  sedate  and  practical,  inviting  his 
attention  to  a  couple  of  bottle-jacks  which  an 
assistant  was  displaying  with  an  obsequious 
smile  :  the  transition  was  rather  an  abrupt  one. 


62  ©ourmaiin's  ®ime  €l)cqites. 

"  Oil,  I  tliink  the  brass  one  is  very  nice," 
lie  stammered,  feebly  enoiigli. 

"  Then  that  settles  it,"  remarked  Sophia ; 
"we'll take  the  ja_panned  one,  please,"  she  said 
to  the  assistant. 

"  Aren't  you  feeling  well,  Peter  dear  ? " 
she  asked  presently,  in  an  undertone.  "  You 
look  so  odd !  " 

"  Quite  well,"  he  said  ;  "  I — ah  ! — was  think- 
ing of  something  else  for  the  moment,  and 
you  startled  me,  that's  all." 

"You  had  such  a  far-away  expression  in 
your  eyes,"  said  Sophia,  "  and  you  did  jump 
so  when  I  spoke  to  you ;  you  should  really 
try  to  conquer  that  tendency  to  let  yourself 
wander,  Peter." 

"  I  will,  my  love,"  he  said ;  and  he  meant 
it,  for  he  had  let  himseK  wander  farther  than 
he  quite  intended. 


CHAPTER  III. 


THE   THIRD    CHEQUE. 


Good    Resolutions. — Casuistry. —  A    Farewell     Visit. — 
Small   Profit  and  a  Quick  Return. 

As  tlie  reader  may  imagine,  this  second  ex- 
perience had  an  effect  upon  Peter  that  was 
rather  deterrent  than  encouraging. 

It  was  a  painful  piece  of  self-revelation  to 
find  that,  had  he  chosen  to  avail  himself  of 
the  extra  hours  on  board  the  Boomerang  as 
they  occurred,  he  would  have  so  employed  them 
as  to  place  himself  in  relations  of  considerable 
ambiguity  toward  two  distinct  young  ladies. 
How  far  he  was  committed  to  either,  or  both, 
he  could  not  tell ;  but  he  had  an  uneasy  sus- 
picion that  neither  of  them  would  have  been 
quite  so  emotional  had  he  conducted  himself 
with  the  same  prudence  that  had  marked  his 


64  STottrmalin's  Simc  dTlieqnes. 

behavior  tlirouglioiit  the  time  which  he  was 
able  to  account  for. 

And  yet  his  conscience  acquitted  him  of 
any  actual  default ;  if  he  had  ever  really  had 
any  passages  at  all  approaching  the  sentimental 
with  either  Miss  Tyrrell  or  Miss  Davenport, 
his  mind  could  hardly  be  so  utterly  blank  on 
the  subject  as  it  certainly  was.  No ;  at  the 
worst,  Ins  failings  were  only  potential  pecca- 
dilloes, the  kind  of  weaknesses  he  might  have 
given  way  to  if  he  had  not  wisely  postjjoned 
the  hours  in  which  the  occasions  were  afforded. 

lie  had  had  a  warning,  a  practical  moral  les- 
son which  had  merely  arrived,  as  such  things 
often  do,  ratlier  after  date. 

But,  so  far  as  it  was  possible  to  profit  by  it, 
he  would :  at  least,  he  would  abstain  from 
making  any  further  inroads  upon  the  balance 
of  extra  time  which  still  remained  to  his  credit 
at  the  bank  ;  he  would  draw  no  further  cheques  ; 
he  would  return  to  that  P.  and  O.  steamer  no 
more.  For  an  engaged  man  whose  wedding- 
day  was  approaching  by  leaps  and  bounds,  it 
was,  however  innocent,  too  disturbing  and  ex- 
citing a  form  of  distraction  to  be  quite  safely 
indulged  in. 


®l)c  Sliirb  €\)C(\nc.  65 

The  resolution  cost  liim  something,  never- 
theless. Peter  was  not  a  man  who  had  hither- 
to been  spoiled  by  feminine  adoration.  Sophia 
was  fond  of  him,  but  she  never  affected  to 
place  him  upon  any  sort  of  pinnacle ;  on  the 
contrary,  she  looked  down  npon  him  protect- 
inglj  and  indulgently  from  a  moral  and  intel- 
lectual pedestal  of  her  own.  He  had  not  ob- 
jected to  this,  in  fact  he  rather  liked  it,  but 
it  was  less  gratifying  and  stimulating  to  his 
self-esteem  than  the  romantic  and  idealizing 
sentiments  which  he  had  seemingly  inspired 
in  two  exceedingly  bewitching  young  persons 
with  whom  he  felt  so  much  in  sympathy.  It 
was  an  agreeable  return  from  the  bread-and- 
butter  of  engaged  life  to  the  petUs  fours  of 
semi-flirtation.  After  all,  Peter  was  but  hu- 
man, and  a  man  is  seldom  esteemed  for  being 
otherwise.  He  could  not  help  a  natural  regret 
at  having  to  abandon  experiences  which,  judg- 
ing from  the  fragmentary  samples  he  had  ob- 
tained, promised  so  much  and  such  varied  in- 
terest. That  the  interest  was  not  consecutive, 
only  made  it  the  more  amusing — it  was  a  living 
puzzle-picture,  the  pieces  of  which  he  could  fit 
together  as  he  received  them.  It  was  tantaliz- 
6 


66  S^ourntfllin's  ®imc  djerjues. 

ing  to  look  at  his  cheque-book  and  feel  that 
upon  its  leaves  the  rest  of  the  story  was  writ- 
ten, but  that  he  must  never  seek  to  decipher 
it :  it  became  so  tantalizing,  that  he  locked 
the  cheque-book  up  at  last. 

But  already  some  of  the  edge  had  worn  off 
his  resolution,  and  he  had  begun  to  see  only 
the  more  seductive  side  of  interviews  which 
at  the  time,  had  not  been  free  from  difficulty 
and  embarrassment.  Having  put  himself  be- 
yond the  reach  of  temptation,  he  naturally 
began  to  cast  about  for  some  excuse  for  again 
exposing  himself  to  it. 

It  was  the  eve  of  his  wedding-day ;  he  was 
in  his  chambers  for  the  last  time  and  alone, 
for  he  would  not  see  Sophia  again  until  he  met 
her  in  bridal  array  at  the  church  door,  and  he 
had  no  bachelor  friends  whom  he  cared  to  in- 
vite to  help  him  to  keep  up  his  spirits. 

Peter  was  horribly  restless  and  nervous  ;  he 
needed  a  sedative  of  some  kind,  and  even  try- 
ing on  his  wedding  garments  failed  to  soothe 
him,  as  he  felt  almost  certain  there  was  a 
wrinkle  between  the  shoulders,  and  it  was  too 
late  to  have  it  altered. 

The  idea  of  one  more  visit  to  the  Boomer- 


®l)e  a:i)iri>  €l)eqtte.  67 

ang — one  more  interview,  the  last,  with  one 
or  other  of  his  amiable  and  fascinating  friends 
— it  did  not  matter  very  much  which — pre- 
sented itself  in  a  more  and  more  attractive 
light.  If  it  did  nothing  else,  it  would  provide 
him  with  something  to  think  about  for  the 
rest  of  the  evening. 

"Was  it  courteous,  was  it  even  right,  to  drop 
his  friends  without  the  slightest  apology  or 
explanation?  Ought  he  not,  as  a  gentleman 
and  a  man  of  honor,  to  go  back  and  bid  them 
"  Good-by  %  "  Peter,  after  carefully  consider- 
ing the  point,  discovered  that  it  was  clearly 
his  duty  to  perform  this  trifling  act  of  civihty. 

As  soon  as  he  had  settled  that,  he  got  out 
his  cheque-book  from  the  dispatch-box,  in  which 
he  had  placed  it  for  his  own  security,  and,  sit- 
ting down  just  as  he  was,  drew  another  fifteen 
minutes,  and  cashed  them,  like  the  first,  at  the 
ormolu  clock.  .  .  . 

This  time  he  found  himself  sitting  on  a 
cushioned  bench  in  the  music-room  of  the 
Boomerang.  It  was  shortly  after  sunset,  as 
he  could  tell  from  the  bar  of  dusky  crimson 
against  the  violet  sea,  which,  framed  in  the 
ports  opposite,  rose  and  sank  with  each  roll  of 


68  ®0urmaUn's  ®ime  QIl)cqucs. 

tlie  ship.  There  was  a  swell  on,  and  she 
rolled  more  than  he  conld  have  wished. 

As  he  expected,  he  was  not  alone ;  but,  as 
he  had  not  expected,  his  companion  was  neither 
Miss  Tyrrell  nor  Miss  Davenport,  but  a  grim 
and  portly  matron,  who  was  eyeing  him  with 
a  look  of  strong  disfavor,  which  made  Peter 
wish  he  had  not  come.  "  What,"  he  won- 
dered, "  was  he  in  for  now  ?  "  His  uneasiness 
was  increased  as  he  glanced  down  upon  his 
trousers,  which,  being  new  and  of  a  delicate 
lavender  tint,  reminded  him  that  in  his  impa- 
tience he  had  come  away  in  his  wedding  gar- 
ments. He  feared  that  he  must  present  rather 
an  odd  appearance  on  board  ship  in  this  festal 
attire ;  but  there  he  would  have  to  stay  for 
the  next  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  he  must  make 
the  best  of  it. 

"  I  repeat,  Mr.  Tourmahn,"  said  the  matron, 
"you  are  doubtless  not  unprepared  for  the 
fact  that  I  have  requested  a  few  minutes' 
private  conversation  with  you  ?  " 

"Pardon  me,"  said  Peter,  quaking  already 
at  this  alarming  opening,  "  but  I  am — very 
much  unprepared."  "  Surely,"  he  thought, 
"  this  could  not  be  another  dear  friend  ?     No, 


that  was  too  absurd — he  must  have  drawn  the 
line  somewhere  !  " 

"  Then  permit  me  to  enhghten  you,"  she 
said  raspingly.  "  I  sent  for  you  at  a  time 
when  we  are  least  likely  to  be  interrupted,  to 
demand  an  explanation  from  you  upon  a  very 
delicate  and  painful  matter  which  has  recently 
come  to  my  knowledge." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Peter — and  nothing  more.  He 
guessed  her  purpose  at  once ;  she  was  going  to 
ask  him  his  intentions  with  regard  to  her 
daughter !  He  could  have  wished  for  some 
indication  as  to  whether  she  was  Lady  Tyrrell 
or  Mrs.  Davenport;  but,  as  he  had  none  at 
present,  "  Oh  "  seemed  the  safest  remark  to 
make. 

"  Life  on  board  a  large  passenger-ship,  Mr. 
Tourmalin,"  she  went  on  to  observe,  "  though 
relaxed  in  some  respects,  is  still  not  without 
decencies  which  a  gentleman  is  bound  to  re- 
spect." 

"  Quite  so,"  said  Peter,  unable  to  discover 
the  bearings  which  lay  in  the  application  of 
this  particular  observation. 

"  You  say  '  Quite  so '  ;  but  what  has  your 
hehavior  been,  sir  ?  " 


70  Sourmaiin's  SCimc  €l)cqtic0. 

"  That,"  said  Peter,  "  is  exactly  wliat  I 
sliould  like  to  know  myself  !  " 

"  A  true  gentleman  would  have  considered 
the  responsibility  he  incurred  by  giving  cur- 
rency to  idle  and  malicious  gossip  !  " 

His  apprehensions  were  correct  then  :  it  was 
one  of  the  young  ladies'  mothers — but  which  f 

"  I  can  only  assure  you,  madam,"  he  began, 
"  that  if  unhappily  I  have — er — been  the  means 
of  furnishing  gossip,  it  has  been  entirely  unin- 
tentional." 

She  seemed  so  much  molhfied  by  this,  that 
he  proceeded  with  more  confidence  : 

"  As  to  anything  I  may  have  said  to  your 
daughter  — "  when  she  almost  bounded  from 
her  seat  with  fury. 

"  My  daughter^  sir !  Do  you  mean  to  sit 
there  and  tell  me  that  you  had  the  audacity  to 
so  much  as  hint  of  such  a  thing  to  my  daugh- 
ter, of  all  people  %  " 

"  So — so  much  depends  on  who  your  daugh- 
ter is  !  "  said  Peter,  comj)letely  losing  his 
head. 

"  You  dared  to  strike  this  cruel  and  un- 
manly blow  at  the  self-respect  of  a  sensitive 
girl — to  poison  her  defenseless  ears  with  your 


®l)e  ^[)ixh  ari)cqtie.  71 

false,  dastardly  insinuations — and  you  can  actu- 
ally admit  it  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  whether  I  can  admit  it 
or  not  yet,"  he  replied.  "  And — and  you  do 
put  things  so  very  strongly  !  It  is  like  this : 
if  you  are  referring  to  any  conversation  I  may 
have  had  with  Miss  Tyrrell — " 

"  Miss  Tyrrell  ?  You  have  told  her  too  !  " 
exclaimed  this  terrible  old  matron,  thereby 
demonstrating  that,  at  least,  she  was  not  Lady 
Tyrrell. 

"T — I  should  have  said  Miss  Davenport," 
said  Peter,  correcting  himself  precipitately. 

"  Miss  Davenport  as  well  ?  Upon  my  word  ! 
And  pray,  sir,  may  I  ask  liow  many  other 
ladies  on  board  this  ship  are  in  possession  of 
your  amiable  confidences  ?  " 

He  raised  his  hands  in  utter  despair. 

"  I  can't  say,"  he  groaned.  "  I  don't  really 
know  what  I  may  have  said,  or  whom  I  may 
have  said  it  to !  I — I  seem  to  have  done  so 
much  in  my  spare  time,  but  I  never  meant 
anything !  " 

"  It  may  be  so,"  she  said ;  "  indeed,  you 
hardly  seem  to  me  accountable  for  your  ac- 
tions, or  you  would  not  appear  in  such  a  ridicu- 


72  dCottrmalin'o  (Z^ime  (!ri)equcs. 

lous  costume  as  that,  witli  a  sprig  of  orange- 
blossom  in  your  button-liole  and  a  high  hat, 
too ! " 

"  I  quite  feel,"  said  Peter,  blushing,  "  that 
such  a  costume  must  strike  you  as  inappropri- 
ate ;  but — but  I  happened  to  be  trying  them 
on,  and — rather  than  keep  you  waiting — " 

"  Well,  well,  sir,  never  mind  your  costume 
— the  question  is,  if  you  are  genuinely  anxious 
to  repair  the  wrong  you  have  done,  what 
course  do  you  propose  to  take  ?  " 

"  I  will  be  perfectly  frank  with  you,  mad- 
am," said  Peter :  "  I  am  not  in  a  position  to 
repair  any  wrong  I  have  done — if  I  have  done 
any  -wrong  (which  I  don't  admit) — by  taking 
any  course  whatever  !  " 

"  You  are  not !  "  she  cried.  "  And  you  tell 
me  so  to  my  face  %  " 

After  all,  reflected  Peter,  why  should  he  be 
afraid  of  this  old  lady?  In  a  few  more  min- 
utes he  would  be  many  hundreds  of  miles 
away,  and  he  would  take  very  good  care  not 
to  come  back  again.  He  felt  master  of  the 
situation,  and  determined  to  brazen  it  out. 

"  I  do,  madam ! "  he  said,  crossing  his  legs 
in  an  easy  fashion.     "  Look  at  it  from  a  rea- 


ai;i)c  a:i)irb  €l)cquc.  73 

sonable  point  of  view.  There  is  safety  iu  num- 
bers ;  and  if  I  have  been  so  unfortunate  as  to 
give  several  young  ladies  here  an  entirely  er- 
roneous impression,  I  must  leave  it  to  you  to 
undeceive  them  as  considerately  but  distinctly 
as  you  can.  For  me  to  make  any  selection 
would  only  create  ill-feeling  among  the  rest ; 
and  their  own  good  sense  will  show  them 
that  I  am  forbidden  by  the  laws  of  my  coun- 
try, which  I  am  the  last  person  to  set  at  defi- 
ance— ^that  I  am  forbidden  (even  if  I  were 
free  in  other  respects,  which  I  am  not)  to 
marry  them  all !  " 

"  The  only  possible  explanation  of  your  con- 
duct is,  that  you  are  not  in  your  right  mind  !  " 
she  said.  "  Who  in  the  world  spoke  or  dreamed 
of  your  marrying  any  one  of  them  ?  Certainly 
not/./" 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Peter,  hopelessly  fogged  once 
more.  "  I  thought  I  might  unintentionally 
have  given  them  grounds  for  some  such  ex- 
pectation. I'm  very  glad  I  was  mistaken. 
You  see,  you  must  really  make  allowances  for 
my  utter  ignorance." 

"  If  this  idiotic  behavior  is  not  a  mere  feint, 
sir,   I   can  make   allowances  for  much ;  but, 


74  Stourmalin's  QLimc  €l)cquc0. 

surely,  you  are  at  least  sufficiently  in  your 
proper  senses  to  see  how  abominably  you  have 
behaved?" 

"  Have  I  ? "  said  Peter,  submissively.  "  I 
don't  wish  to  contradict  you,  if  you  say  so, 
I'm  sure.  And,  as  I  have  some  reason  to 
believe  that  my  stay  on  board  this  ship 
will  not  last  very  much  longer,  I  should 
like  before  I  go  to  express  my  very  sincere 
regret." 

"  There  is  an  easy  way  of  proving  your 
sincerity,  sir,  if  you  choose  to  avail  yourself  of 
it,"  she  said.  "  I  find  it  very  difficult  to  be- 
lieve, from  the  evident  feebleness  of  your  in- 
tellect, that  you  can  be  the  person  chielly 
responsible  for  this  scandal.  Am  I  correct  in 
my  supposition  ? " 

"  You  are,  madam,"  said  Peter.  "  I  should 
never  have  got  myself  into  such  a  tangle  as 
this,  if  I  had  not  been  talked  over  by  Mr. 
Perkins.  I  don't  know  if  I  can  succeed  in 
making  myself  clear,  for  the  whole  business 
is  rather  complicated  ;  but  I  can  try  to  ex- 
plain it,  if  you  will  only  have  a  little  pa- 
tience." 

"  You  have   said   quite  enough,"  she  said. 


"  I  know  all  I  wish  to  know  now.  So  it  was 
Mr.  Perkins  who  has  been  using  you  as  his  in- 
strument, was  it  ? " 

"Certainly,"  said  Peter  ;  "  but  for  him, 
nothing  of  this  would  have  happened." 

"  You  will  have  no  objection  to  repeating 
that  statement,  should  I  call  upon  you  to 
do  so  ? " 

"  No,"  said  Peter,  who  observed  with  pleas- 
ure that  her  wrath  ag-ainst  himself  was  almost 
entirely  moderated ;  "  but  you  will  have  to 
call  soon^  or  I  shall  have  gone.  I — I  don't 
know  if  I  shall  have  another  opportunity  of 
meeting  Mr.  Perkins  ;  but  if  I  did,  I  should 
certainly  tell  him  that  I  do  not  consider  he  has 
treated  me  quite  fairly.  He  has  put  me  in 
what  I  may  call  a  false  position,  in  several 
false  positions ;  and  if  I  had  had  the  knowl- 
edge I  have  now,  I  should  have  had  nothing 
to  do  with  him  from  the  first.  He  entirely 
misled  me  over  this  business  ! " 

"  Yery  well,  sir,"  she  said  ;  "  you  have 
shown  a  more  gentlemanly  spirit,  on  the  whole, 
than  I  expected.  I  am  glad  to  find  that  your 
evil  has  been  wrought  more  by  want  of  thought 
than  heart.     It  will  be  for  you  to   complete 


76  Sourmalin's  dCime  €l)cqties. 

your  reparation  when  the  proper  time  arrives. 
In  the  mean  time,  let  tliis  be  a  warning  to  you, 
sir,  never  to — "  .  .  . 

But  here  Peter  made  the  sudden  discovery 
that  he  was  no  longer  in  the  music-room  of 
the  Boomerang,  but  at  home  in  his  old  easy- 
chair  by  his  bachelor  fireside. 

"  Phew !  "  he  muttered  to  himself,  "  that 
was  a  bad  quarter  of  an  hour  while  it  lasted ! 
What  an  old  she-dragon  it  was!  But  she's 
right — it  is  a  warning  to  me.  I  mustn't — I 
really  must  not  draw  any  more  of  these  con- 
founded time  cheques.  I've  made  that  ship 
too  hot  to  hold  me  already  !  I'd  better  remain 
forever  in  contented  ignorance  of  how  I  spent 
that  extra  time,  than  to  go  on  getting  into  one 
mess  after  another  like  this  !  It  was  a  wonder 
I  got  out  of  this  one  as  well  as  I  did  ;  but  evi- 
dently that  old  woman  knew  what  Perkins  is, 
and  saw  /  wasn't  to  blame.  IS'ow  she'll  ex- 
plain the  whole  affair  to  all  those  girls  (who- 
ever they  may  be),  and  pitch  into  Perkins — 
and  serve  him  right !  Prn  out  of  it,  at  any 
rate  ;  and  now,  thank  goodness,  after  to-morrow 
I  shall  have  nothing  to  do  but  live  contentedly 
and  happily  with  dearest  Sophia !     I'd  better 


®l)e  ®l)irb  €:l)cqtic. 


burn  this  beastly  clieque-book — I  sliall  never 
want  it  again  !  " 

It  would  have  been  well  for  Peter  if  he  had 
burned  that  cheque-book  ;  but  when  it  came  to 
the  point,  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  destroy 
it.  After  all,  it  was  an  interesting  soxwenir 
of  some  very  curious,  if  not  unique,  experi- 
ences ;  and,  as  such,  he  decided  to  preserve  it. 


CHAPTER  lY. 

THE    FOURTH    CHEQUE. 

A  Blue  Moon. — Felicity  in  a  Flat. — Practical  Astrono- 
my.—  Temptation  and  a  Relapse. — The  Difficulties  of 
being  Completely  Candid. — A  Slight  Misunderstand- 
ing.— The  Avenging  Orange. 

Peter  Tourmalin  enjoyed  liis  lioneymoon 
extremely,  in  a  calm,  sober,  and  rational  man- 
ner. Sophia  discouraged  rapture ;  but,  on  the 
other  hand,  no  one  was  better  fitted  to  inspire 
and  sustain  an  intelligent  interest  in  the  won- 
ders of  Geology ;  and,  catching  her  scientific 
enthusiasm,  Peter  spent  many  happy  hours 
with  her  along  the  cliffs,  searching  for  fossil 
remains.  In  fact,  the  only  cloud  that  threat- 
ened to  mar  their  felicity  at  all  was  an  unfortu- 
nate tendency  on  his  part  to  confuse  a  trilobite 
with  a  graptolite,  a  blunder  for  which  Sophia 
had    no   tolerance.     He   was   hazy  about  his 


a;i)e  i^ourtl)  (iL\)cqnc.  79 

periods,  too,  until  she  sent  up  to  town  for 
Lyell's  great  work  on  the  subject  as  a  birth- 
day surprise  for  him,  and  he  read  it  aloud  to 
her  on  the  sands.  Altogether,  it  was  a  peace- 
ful, happy  time. 

And  never  once  in  the  whole  course  of  his 
honeymoon  did  he  seriously  entertain  the  pos- 
sibility of  making  any  further  use  of  his  book 
of  blank  Time  Cheques.  If  he  had  contem- 
plated it,  no  harm  would  have  been  done,  how- 
ever, as  the  book  was  lying  among  his  neglected 
papers  at  his  former  chambers. 

He  felt  no  poignant  regret  when  the  month 
came  to  an  end,  and  they  returned  to  town  to 
take  possession  of  their  Marylebone  flat:  for 
what  was  it  but  shifting  the  scene  of  their 
happiness?  And  after  this  had  taken  place, 
Peter  was  still  too  much  occupied  to  have  leis- 
ure for  idle  and  mischievous  thoughts.  Mar- 
rying Soj)hia  was,  indeed,  like  loving  Sir  Eich- 
ard  Steele's  fair  lady,  "  a  liberal  education ; " 
and  Peter  enjoyed  the  undivided  benefit  of  her 
rare  talent  for  instruction. 

He  had  been  giving  his  attention  to  As- 
tronomy of  late,  an  unguarded  remark  of  his 
having  betrayed  to  Sopliia  the  extreme  crudity 


80  STottrmalin's  ®imc  €l)cqncs. 

of  his  ideas  respecting  that  science,  and  she 
had  insisted  upon  his  getting  a  popular  primer, 
with  diagrams,  and  mastering  it  as  a  prehmi- 
nary  to  deeper  study. 

One  evening  he  was  in  the  smaller  room  of 
the  two  that,  divided  by  an  arch,  served  for 
study  and  drawing-room  combined;  and  he 
was  busily  engaged  in  working  out  a  simple 
practical  illustration,  by  the  aid  of  one  of  the 
aforesaid  diagrams.  The  experiment  required 
a  lamp,  a  ball  of  cotton,  and  an  orange  trans- 
fixed by  a  knitting-needle,  and  it  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  the  succession  of  the  seasons, 
solar  and  lunar  eclipses,  and  the  varying  lengths 
of  day  and  night  on  different  portions  of  our 
globe,  though  he  was  not  very  clear  what. 

"  Don't  you  find  you  understand  the  inclina- 
tion of  the  moon's  orbit  to  the  plane  of  the 
ecliptic  better  now  ? "  said  Sophia,  as  she  came 
through  the  arch. 

"  I  think  I  shall,  as  soon  as  I  can  get  the 
moon  to  keep  steadier,"  he  said,  with  more 
hope  than  he  felt ;  "  and  it's  rather  hard  to  re- 
member whereabouts  I  am  supposed  to  be  on 
this  orange." 

"  I  must  get  you  some  tiling   to  make  that 


a:i)c  iTonrtl)  (illjcquc.  81 

clearer,"  she  said ;  "  and  you  haven't  tilted 
the  orange  nearly  enough.  But  leave  it  for  a 
moment;  I've  brought  you  in  this  packet  of 
letters  and  things  the  people  at  your  old  rooms 
have  just  sent  down.  I  wish,  while  I  am 
away — I  shall  be  back  in  a  minute — you  would 
just  run  over  them,  and  tell  me  if  there  are 
any  papers  you  want  kept,  or  if  they  may  all  be 
burned." 

While  she  was  gone,  he  undid  the  string 
which  fastened  the  packet,  and  found,  at  the 
bottom  of  a  mass  of  bills  and  documents  of  no 
value,  the  small  oblong  cheque-book  which  he 
had  vowed  never  to  see  again.  Somehow,  as 
liis  eyes  rested  on  its  green  cover,  the  old  long- 
ing came  upon  him  for  a  comi^lete  change  of 
air  and  scene.  He  felt  as  if  he  must  get  away 
from  that  orange :  there  were  no  lamps  but 
electric  lights,  and  no  oranges,  on  board  the 
Boomerang. 

But  then,  his  last  visit  had  not  turned  out  a 
success :  what  if  he  were  to  find  he  had  drawn 
another  quarter  of  an  hour  with  that  irate  ma- 
tron of  the  music-room  ? 

However,  he  had  left  her,  as  he  remembered, 
in  a  comparatively  pacific  mood.     She  under- 


82  (JTonrmalin's  ©imc  Cl)eqne0. 

stood  liini  better  now ;  and  besides,  thanks  to 
the  highly  erratic  system  (if  there  was  any  sys- 
tem) on  which  the  payments  were  made,  the 
chances  were  immensely  against  his  coming 
across  the  same  old  lady  twice  running.  He 
thought  he  would  risk  that. 

It  was  much  more  likely  that  he  would 
meet  Miss  Tyrrell  or  Miss  Davenport,  or  it 
might  even  be  another  person  to  whom  he  was 
unconsciously  allied  by  the  bond  of  dear  friend- 
ship. The  only  question  was,  how  far  he 
could  trust  himself  in  such  companionship. 
But  here  he  felt  himself  guilty  of  a  self -distrust 
that  was  unworthy  of  him.  If,  on  the  two 
previous  occasions,  he  could  not  call  to  mind 
that  he  had  entertained  any  deeper  sentiment 
for  either  young  lady  than  a  cordial  and 
sympathetic  interest,  was  it  likely  that,  now  he 
was  a  married  man,  he  would  be  more  suscepti- 
ble ?  He  was  as  devoted  to  his  Sophia  as  ever, 
but  the  wear  and  tear  of  several  successive 
evenings  spent  in  elementary  Astronomy  were 
telling  upon  his  constitution.  Such  high  think- 
ing did  not  agree  with  him ;  he  wanted  a 
plainer  mental  diet  for  a  change.  Fifteen  min- 
utes spent  in  the  society  of  some  one  with  a 


®1)C  iTourtli  Cheque.  83 

mind  rather  less  cultivated  than  his  wife's 
would  be  very  restful.  Then,  when  he  came 
back,  he  would  give  his  whole  mind  to  the 
orange  again. 

In  short,  all  Peter's  good  resolutions  were 
thrown  overboard  once  more,  and  he  wrote 
out  a  cheque  for  the  usual  amount  in  desperate 
fear  lest  Sophia  might  return  before  he  could 
get  it  honored.  He  felt  a  certain  compunc- 
tion, even  then,  in  presenting  it  to  the  severe 
and  intensely  respectable  black  marble  time- 
piece which  recorded  the  flying  hours  of  his 
domestic  bliss.  He  almost  doubted  whether  it 
would  countenance  so  irregular  a  proceeding ; 
but,  although  it  was  on  the  verge  of  striking 
nine,  it  cashed  the  cheque  without  hesita- 
tion. .  .  . 

It  was  midday  :  Peter  was  sitting  on  a  fold- 
ing seat,  protected  from  the  scorching  sun  by 
the  awning  which  was  stretched  above  and 
along  the  exposed  side  of  the  deck ;  and,  to  his 
great  satisfaction,  he  found  Miss  Tyrrell  re- 
clining in  a  deck  chair  between  himself  and  the 
railing,  and  a  pleasant  picture  of  fresh  and 
graceful  girlhood  she  presented. 

As  usual,  he  was  not  in  time  for  the  begin- 


84  QTourmalin's  QLimc  QII)eqncs. 

ning  of  the  conversation,  for  she  was  evidently 
commenting  upon  something  he  had  said. 

"  How  delightful  it  sounds,"  she  was  saying, 
"  and  what  a  free,  unfettered  kind  of  life 
yours  must  be,  Mr.  Tourmalin,  from  your  de- 
scription ! " 

Now,  this  was  awkward  ;  because  he  must 
have  been  giving  her  an  airy  description  of 
his  existence  as  the  bachelor  and  butterfly  he 
had  ceased  to  be.  He  answered  guardedly, 
awaiting  his  opportunity  to  lead  up  to  a  dis- 
closure of  the  change  in  his  circumstances  since 
they  had  last  met. 

"  It  is  pleasant  enough,"  he  said.  "  A  little 
dull  at  times,  perhaps,"  he  added,  thinking  of 
the  orange. 

She  laughed. 

"  Oh,  you  mustn't  expect  me  to  pity  you ! " 
she  said.  "  I  don't  believe  you  need  ever  be 
dull,  unless  you  choose.  There  must  always 
be  friends  who  are  glad  to  see  you." 

"I  am  glad  to  think,"  said  Peter,  "that, 
when  I  do  feel  dull,  I  have  at  least  one  friend 
— one  dear  friend — from  whom  I  may  count 
ui^on  a  welcome !  " 

He  accompanied  this   speech   with   such  a 


tl\)c  f^onrtl)  (fll}cqne.  85 

look,  that  she  could  not  well  pretend  to  mis- 
take his  meaning  ;  and  the  next  moment  he  re- 
gretted it,  for  he  saw  he  had  gone  too  far. 

"  That  is  a  very  pretty  speech,"  she  said,  with 
a  faint  flush  ;  "  but  isn't  it  a  little  premature, 
Mr.  Tourmalin,  considering  that  we  have  scarce- 
ly known  one  another  two  days  !  " 

For  the  moment,  Peter  had  forgotten  the 
want  of  consecutiveness  in  these  eccentric 
Time-Cheques.  This  interview  should  by  rights 
have  preceded  the  first  he  had  had  with  her. 
He  felt  annoyed  with  himself,  and  still  more 
with  the  un business-like  behavior  of  the  Bank. 

"  I — I  was  anticipating,  perhaps,"  he  said. 
"  But  I  assure  you  that  we  shall  certainly  he 
friends — I  may  even  go  so  far  as  to  say,  dear 
friends — sooner  or  later.  You  see  if  I  am  not 
right ! " 

Miss  Tyrrell  smiled. 

"  Are  yoii  sure,"  she  said,  with  her  eyes 
denmrely  lowered — are  you  sure  that  there  is 
nobody  who  might  object  to  our  being  on 
quite  such  intimate  terms  as  that  ? " 

Peter  started.  Could  she  possibly  have 
guessed,  and  how  much  did  she  know  ? 

"  There  could  be  nothing  for  anybody  to  ob- 


86  Sonrmfllin's  ®ime  ^Ijeqnes. 

ject  to,"  he  said.  "  Are  you — er — referring 
to  any  person  in  particular  ?  " 

She  still  kept  her  eyes  down,  but  then  she 
was  occupied  just  at  the  moment  in  removing 
a  loose  splinter  of  bamboo  from  the  arm  of  her 
chair. 

"  You  mustn't  think  me  curious  or — or  in- 
discreet, if  I  tell  you,"  she  said  ;  "  but  before 
I  knew  you  to  speak  to,  I — I  couldn't  help 
noticing  how  often,  as  you  sat  on  deck,  you 
used  to  pull  something  out  of  your  pocket 
and  look  at  it." 

"  My  watch  ?  "  suggested  Peter,  feeling  un- 
comfortable. 

"  No,  not  your  watch ;  it  looked  more  like 
— well,  like  a  photograph." 

"  It  may  have  been  a  photograph,  now  you 
mention  it,"  he  admitted.  "  Wellj  Miss  Tyr- 
rell?" 

"  Well,"  she  said,  "  I  often  amuse  myself 
by  making  up  stories  about  people  I  meet — 
quite  strangers,  I  mean.  And,  do  you  know, 
I  made  up  my  mind  that  that  photograph  was 
the  portrait  of  some  one — some  lady  you  are 
eng-ased  to.  I  should  so  much  like  to  know 
if  I  was  right  or  not  ?  " 


)e  lonxtl)  €l)cqnc.  87 


Here  was  Peter's  opportunity  of  revealing 
his  real  status,  and  preventing  all  chance  of 
future  misunderstanding.  It  was  not  too  late  ; 
but  still  it  might  be  best  and  kindest  to  break 
the  news  gradually. 

"  You  were  partly  right  and  partly  wrong," 
he  said :  "  that  was  the  portrait  of  a  lady  I 
was — er — o?ice  engaged  to." 

Unless  Peter  was  very  much  mistaken,  there 
was  a  new  light  in  her  face,  an  added  bright, 
ness  in  her  soft  gray  eyes  as  she  raised  them 
for  an  instant  before  resuming  her  labors 
upon  the  wicker-chair. 

"  Then  you  mean,"  she  said  softly,  "  that  the 
engagement  is  broken  oft'?" 

Peter  began  to  recognize  that  explanation 
was  a  less  simple  affair  than  it  had  seemed.  If 
he  said  that  he  was  no  longer  engaged  but 
married  to  the  original  of  that  photograph, 
she  would  naturally  want  to  know  why  he  had 
just  led  her  to  believe,  as  he  must  have  done, 
that  he  was  still  a  careless  and  unattached 
bachelor ;  she  would  ask  when  and  where  he 
was  married  ;  and  how  could  he  give  a  straight- 
forward and  satisfactory  answer  to  such  ques- 
tions ? 


Sourmalin's  ®imc  Clieqnes. 


And  then  another  side  of  the  case  struck 
him.  As  a  matter  of  fact  he  was  undeniably 
married ;  but  would  he  be  strictly  correct  in 
describing  himself  as  being  so  in  this  particu- 
lar interview  f  It  belonged  properly  to  the 
time  he  had  made  the  voyage  home,  and  he 
was  certainly  not  married  then. 

In  the  difficulty  he  was  in  he  thought  it 
best  to  go  on  telling  the  truth  until  it  became 
absolutely  impossible,  and  then  fall  back  on 
invention. 

"  The  fact  is,  Miss  Tyrrell,"  he  said,  "  that 
I  can't  be  absolutely  certain  whether  the  en- 
gagement is  ended  or  not  at  this  precise  mo- 
ment." 

Her  face  was  alive  with  the  sweetest  sympa- 
thy. 

"  Poor  Mr.  Tourmalin  !  "  she  said,  "  how 
horribly  anxious  you  must  be  to  get  back  and 
know ! " 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Peter,  "  yes,  I — I  shall  know 
■when  I  get  home,  I  suppose." 

And  he  sighed ;  for  the  orange  recurred 
once  more  to  his  reluctant  memory. 

"  Don't  tell  me  if  it  pains  you  too  much," 
she  said  gently.    "  I  only  ask  because  I  do  feel 


Q[\)e  iFourtI)  €lKqtie.  89 

so  sorry  for  you.  Do  you  tliink  that,  when 
you  do  get  home,  you  will  find  her  married  ?  " 

"  I  have  every  reason  for  believing  so,"  he 
said. 

"  That  will  be  a  terrible  blow  for  you,  of 
course  ? " 

"  A  blow  ? "  said  Peter,  forgetting  himself. 
"  Good  gracious  me,  no  !  "Wliy  should  it  be  ? 
I — I  mean,  I  shall  be  prepared  for  it,  don't 
you  know  ? " 

"  Then  it's  not  so  bad,  after  all  ?  "  she  said. 

"  It's  not  at  all  bad  ! "  said  Peter,  with  a 
vague  intention  of  loyalty  to  Sophia.  "  I  like 
it!" 

"  I  think  I  understand,"  she  said  slowly : 
"  you  will  not  be  sorry  to  find  she  has  mar- 
ried ;  but  she  may  tell  you  that  she  never  had 
the  least  intention  of  letting  you  go  so  easily  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Peter,  "  she  may  tell  me  that, 
certainly — ("  if  she  finds  out  where  I've  been," 
he  added,  mentally.) 

"  And,"  she  continued,  "  what  would  you  do 
then?" 

"  I  suppose,"  he  said — "  I  suppose  I  should 
have  to  do  whatever  she  wished." 

"  Yes !  "  she  agreed  warmly,  "  you  ivill  do 


90  dTottrmalin's  Sime  (iri)cq«e0. 

that,  even  if  it  costs  you  something,  won't 
you?  Because  it  will  be  the  only  right,  the 
only  honorable  course  to  take — you  will  be  the 
happier  for  it  in  the  end,  Mr.  Tourmalin,  I 
am  sure  you  will !  " 

After  all,  it  seemed  to  him  that  she  must 
understand  about  the  Time  Cheques — or,  why 
should  she  urge  him  to  give  them  up  if  Sophia 
demanded  such  a  sacrifice  ? 

"  No,  I  shall  not,"  he  said ;  "  I  shall  miss 
these  times  terribly.  You  don't  know  what 
they  are  to  me,  or  you  wouldn't  speak  like 
that!" 

"  Mr.  Tourmalin  !  "  she  cried,  "  I — I  must 
not  listen  to  you !  You  can't  possibly  mean 
what  you  seem  to  mean.  It  is  wrong — wrong 
to  me,  and  wrong  to  her — to  say  things  that — 
that,  for  all  you  know,  you  are  not  free  to  say  ! 
Don't  let  me  think  badly  of  you  !  " 

Peter  was  absolutely  horrified !  Wliat  had 
he  said  to  agitate  her  like  that?  He  had 
merely  meant  to  express  the  pleasure  he  found 
in  these  brief  and  stolen  visits  to  the  Boom- 
erang ',  and  she  had  misconstrued  him  like 
this !  At  all  hazards,  he  must  explain  now,  if 
it  took  him  days  to  make  it  clear. 


®l)e  i^ourtl)  (tijcque.  91 

"  My  dear  Miss  Tyrrell,"  lie  protested  earn- 
estly, "  you  quite  misunderstood  me — you  did 
indeed !  Pray  be  calm,  and  I  will  endeavor 
to  make  my  position  a  little  clearer  than  I'm 
afraid  I  have  done.  The  worst  of  it  is,"  he 
added,  "  that  the  whole  thing  has  got  into 
such  a  muddle  that,  for  the  life  of  me,  I  can't 
exactly  make  out  what  my  position  is  at  the 
present  moment ! " 

"  You  can  if  you  will  only  recollect  that  you 
are  this  mourning-pin,"  said  a  familiar  voice  ; 
and,  "with  the  abruptness  characteristic  of  the 
Time  Cheque  system,  he  was  back  in  his  study, 
staring  at  the  ground  glass  globe  of  the  lamp 
and  the  transfixed  orange.  The  clock  behind 
him  was  striking  nine,  and  Sophia  was  offer- 
ing him  a  pin  Avith  a  big  black  head. 

"  Oh  !  am  I  the  mourning-pin  ? "  he  re- 
peated, helplessly. 

"  Keally,  Peter,"  said  Sophia,  "  I  think  the 
pin  just  at  this  moment,  has  the  more  intelli- 
gent expression  of  the  two.  Do  try  to  look 
a  little  less  idiotic  !  ISTow,  see  ;  you  stick  the 
pin  into  the  orange  to  represent  your  point 
of  view,  and  then  keep  on  twirling  it  slowly 
round." 


92  STourmalin's  STime  (!II)cqttes. 

So  Peter  twirled  the  orange  slowly  round 
for  the  remainder  of  the  evening,  though  his 
thoughts  were  far  away  with  Miss  Tyrrell. 
He  w^as  wondering  what  she  could  have  thought 
of  him,  and,  worse  still,  what  she  would  think 
if  she  could  see  him  as  he  was  employed  at  that 
moment  ? 

"  I  tell  you  what  we  must  do,  Peter — 
when  you  get  a  little  more  advanced,"  said 
Sophia,  enthusiastically,  that  evening,  "we 
must  see  if  we  can't  pick  up  a  small  second- 
hand orrery  somewhere — it  would  be  so  nice 
to  have  one  !  " 

"  Oh,  delightful !  "  he  said  absently. 

He  was  not  very  clear  as  to  what  an  orrery 
was,  unless  it  was  the  dusty  machine  that  was 
worked  with  handles  at  sundry  Assembly- 
room  lectures  he  had  attended  in  early  youth. 
But  of  one  thing  he  felt  grimly  certain — that 
it  was  something  which  would  render  it  neces- 
sary to  draw  more  Time  Cheques ! 


CHAPTER  V. 


PERIODIC   DRAWINGS. 


A  Series  of  Cheques:  their  Advantages  and  Drawbacks. 
— All  Unknown  Factor. —  Uncompleted  Confidences. — 
Ibsen,  u'ith  Intervals. — A  Disappointment. — A  ^'^ Search 
Question'''  from  Sophia. — Confidence  restored. 

Whether  it  was  natural  sin  on  Peter's  part, 
or  an  excusable  spirit  of  revolt  against  the  oj)- 
pression  of  an  orrery  wliicli  Sophia  succeeded 
in  picking  up  a  great  bargain  at  an  auction 
somewhere,  liis  drafts  on  the  Anglo-Austra- 
lian Time  Bank  did  not  end  with  the  one  re- 
corded in  the  preceding  chapter. 

And,  which  was  more  discredital:»le  still,  he 
no  longer  pretended  to  himself  that  he  meant 
to  stop  until  his  balance  was  completely  ex- 
hausted. His  only  care  now  was  to  economize, 
to  regulate  his  expenditure  by  spreading  his 
drawings    over  as   long  a    period    as  possi- 


94  Sonrmalin's  ®imc  (Elieqncs. 

ble.  With  this  object  he  made  a  careful 
calculation,  and  found  there  were  still  sev- 
eral hours  to  his  credit;  whereupon,  lest  he 
should  yield  to  the  temptation  of  drawing 
too  much  at  any  one  time,  he  made  out  a  num- 
ber of  cheques  for  fifteen  minutes  apiece,  and 
limited  himself  to  one  a  week — an  allowance 
which,  even  under  the  severest  provocation, 
he  rarely  permitted  himself  to  exceed. 

These  weekly  excursions,  short  as  they  were, 
were  a  source  of  the  greatest  comfort  to  him, 
especially  now  that  he  had  thro\vTi  off  any  idea 
of  moral  responsibility. 

By  degrees  he  possessed  himseK  of  most  of 
the  back-numbers,  if  they  may  be  so  termed, 
of  his  dual  romance.  At  one  time,  he  found 
himself  being  presented  by  the  grateful  Sir 
"William  to  his  daughter  ;  and  now  that  he 
knew  what  service  he  had  rendered  the  Judge, 
he  was  less  at  sea  than  he  would  certainly  have 
been  otherwise.  Another  time,  he  discovered 
himself  in  tlie  act  of  dragging  Miss  Davenport 
unceremoniously  back  from  the  bulwarks  ;  iDut 
here  again  his  memory  furnished  him  with  the 
proper  excuse  for  conduct  which,  considering 
that  he  was  not  supposed  to  be  acquainted  with 


IJeriobic  IDratDinge.  95 

her,  he  might  have  found  it  difficult  to  account 
for  satisfactorily.  So,  after  all,  there  did  seem 
to  be  a  sort  of  method  in  the  operation  of  the 
Time  Cheques,  arbitrary  as  it  appeared. 

One  fact  that  went  far  to  reconcile  him  to 
his  own  conscience  was  the  circumstance  that, 
though  the  relations  he  stood  in  toward  both 
young  ladies  varied  at  each  interview  with  the 
most  bewildering  uncertainty,  so  that  one  week 
he  would  be  upon  the  closest  and  most  confi- 
dential terms,  and  the  next  be  thrown  back 
into  the  conventional  formality  of  a  first  in- 
troduction— these  relations  never  again  ap- 
proached the  dangerous  level  of  sentiment 
which  had  so  alarmed  him. 

He  flattered  himself  that  the  judicious  atti- 
tude he  was  adopting  to  both  was  correcting 
the  false  impressions  which  might  have — and 
for  that  matter  actually  had — been  given. 

He  was  always  pleased  to  see  them  again, 
whichever  one  it  was  ;  they  were  simply 
charming  friends — frank,  natural,  unaffected 
girls — and  not  too  clever.  Sometimes,  indeed, 
he  recognized,  and  did  his  best  to  discourage, 
symptoms  of  a  dawning  tenderness  on  their  part 
which  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  reciprocate. 


96  ®onrmalin's  ®imc  (E\i)cc\ncs. 

Peter  was  in  no  danger  of  losing  his  heart  to 
either ;  possibly  the  attractions  of  each  serv^ed 
as  a  conductor  to  protect  him  from  the  influ- 
ence of  the  other.  He  enjoyed  their  society, 
their  evident  appreciation  of  all  he  said  and 
did,  but  that  was  all ;  and  as  they  recognized 
that  there  could  be  no  closer  bond  than  that  of 
cordial  friendship  between  them,  he  was  re- 
lieved of  all  misgi^angs. 

Surely  it  was  a  blameless  and  legitimate 
manner,  even  for  a  married  man,  of  spending 
the  idle  moments  which  belonged  properly  to 
the  days  of  his  bachelorhood !  Still,  he  did 
not  confide  this  harmless  secret  of  his  to  So- 
phia ;  he  might  tell  her  when  it  was  all  over, 
but  not  so  long  as  her  disapproval  could  affect 
his  plans.  And  he  had  an  instinct  that  such 
a  story  as  he  had  to  tell  would  fail  to  appeal 
to  a  person  of  her  accurately  logical  habit  of 
mind. 

So,  on  one  occasion  when  he  discovered 
that  he  had  lost  one  of  the  loose  cheques  he 
now  carried  constantly  about  with  him,  it  was 
with  a  feeling  very  like  panic  that  he  reflected 
that  he  might  have  dropped  it  about  the  house, 
where  its  unusual  form  would  inevitably  pro- 


Pcriobic  lUratDinjgs.  97 

vote  Sophia's  ciiriositj  ;  and  he  was  much  re- 
assured when  he  was  able  to  conclude,  from  the 
fact  that  she  made  no  reference  to  it,  that  he 
must  have  lost  it  out  of  doors. 

It  must  have  been  some  time  after  this  before 
his  serenity  again  met  with  a  slight  shock  :  he 
was  walking  up  and  down  the  deck  with  Miss 
Davenport — it  happened  to  be  one  of  the  days 
when  he  knew  her  very  well  indeed. 

"  Sometimes,"  she  was  saying,  "  I  feel  as  if  I 
Tnust  speak  to  somebody  ! " 

"  You  know  where  you  will  always  find  a 
very  willing  listener ! "  he  said,  with  a  kind  of 
fatherly  floweriness  that  he  felt  sat  well  upon 
him. 

"I  didn't  mean  you,"  she  said — "to  some 
girl  of  my  own  age,  I  meant." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Peter,  "  well,  that's  a  very  natural 
feeling,  I'm  sure.    I  can  quite  understand  it !  " 

"  Then  you  wouldn't  mind — you  wouldn't 
be  angry  if  I  did  ? "  she  said,  looking  up  at 
him  with  her  great  childishly  serious  eyes. 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Peter,  getting  more 
fatherly  every  moment,  "  how  could  I  possibly 
object  to  your  speaking  to  any  lady  on  board 
if  you  want  to  ? " 
1 


98  Sottrtnalin's  ®ime  €l)cqtic0. 

He  would  have  liked  to  make  one  or  two 
exceptions  perhaps  ;  but  he  thought  he  had 
better  not. 

"  I  am  so  glad,"  she  said,  "  because  I  did — 
this  very  morning.  I  did  so  want  some  one 
to  advise  me — to  tell  me  what  a  girl  ought  to 
do,  what  she  would  do  herself  in  my  place." 

"  Ah !  "  said  Peter,  sympathetically,  "  it  is — 
er — a  difficult  position  for  you,  no  doubt." 

"  And  for  you,  too  !  "  she  said  quickly ;  "re- 
member that," 

"  And  for  me,  too^  of  course,"  said  Peter,  as- 
senting, as  he  always  did  now  from  habit,  to 
anything  he  did  not  understand  at  the  mo- 
ment. "  My  position  might  be  described  as 
one  of — er — difficulty,  certainly.  And  so  you 
asked  advice  about  yours,  eh  ? " 

"  I  couldn't  very  well  help  myself,"  she  said. 
"  There  was  a  girl,  a  little  older  than  I  am,  per- 
haps, sitting  next  to  me  on  deck,  and  she  men- 
tioned your  name,  and  somehow — I  hardly 
know  how  it  came  about — but  she  seemed  so 
kind,  and  so  interested  in  it  all,  that — that  I 
believe  I  told  her  everything.  .  .  .  You 
aren't  angry  with  me,  are  you,  Peter  % " 

She  had  been  making  a  confidante  of  Miss 


periodic  JDrawinga.  99 

Tyrrell !  It  was  awkward,  extremely  awkward 
and  annoying,  if,  as  he  began  to  fear,  her  con- 
lidences  were  of  a  tender  character. 

"  I — I  am  not  exactly  angry,"  he  said  ;  "  but 
I  do  think  you  might  be  more  careful  whom 
you  speak  to.     What  did  you  tell  her  ? " 

'"All !  "  she  said,  with  the  same  little  quiver 
in  her  underlip  he  had  noticed  before. 

"  That  is  no  answer,"  said  Peter  (it  certainly 
was  none  for  him).    "  Tell  me  what  you  said  1 " 

"  I — I  told  her  about  you,  and  about  me  .  .  . 
and — and  about  him  !  " 

"  Oh !  "  said  Peter,  "  about  me,  and  you,  and 
him  ?     Well,  and — and  how  did  she  take  it  ? " 

"  She  didn't  say  very  much  ;  she  turned  very 
pale.  It  was  rather  rough  at  the  time,  and  I 
don't  think  she  can  be  a  very  good  sailor ;  for 
before  I  had  even  finished  she  got  up  and  went 
below,  and  I  haven't  seen  her  since." 

"  But  you  told  her  about  '  him '  ? "  he  per- 
sisted ;  "  and  when  you  say  '  him,'  I  presume 
you  refer  to —  "  ? 

Here  he  paused  expectantly. 

"  Of  course !  "  she  answered,  with  a  touch  of 
impatience.  "Whom  else  should  I  be  likely 
to  refer  to  ? " 


100         SCottrmalin's  STimc  ®l)cqnc0. 

"  It's  excessively  absurd ! "  said  Peter,  driven 
to  candor  at  last.  "■  I — I  remember  perfectly 
that  you  did  mention  all  the  circumstances  at 
the  time ;  but  I've  a  shocking  memory  for 
names,  and,  just  for  the  minute,  I — I  find  it 
difficult  to  recall  where  '  he '  comes  in  exactly. 
Curious,  isn't  it  ? " 

"  Curious  ?  "  she  said,  passionately ;  "  it's 
ahominable  !  " 

"  It  is,"  agreed  Peter ;  "  I  quite  admit  that 
I  ought  to  know — only,  1  donH.''^ 

"  This  is  cruel,  unmanly  !  "  she  said,  broken- 
ly. "  How  could  you  forget — how  can  you 
insult  me  hy  pr'etending  that  you  could  forget 
such  a  tiling  as  that  ?  It  is  odious  of  you  to 
make  a — a  joke  of  it  all,  when  you  know  per- 
fectly well  that—" 

"  My — my  dear  young  lady  !  "  he  declared, 
as  she  left  her  speech  unfinished,  "  I  am  as  far 
from  any  disposition  to  be  jocular  as  ever  I 
was  in  my  life.  Let  me  beg  you  to  be  a  little 
more  explicit.  "We  seem  to  have  got  into  a 
trifling  misunderstanding,  which,  I  am  sure,  a 
little  patience  will  easily  put  right."  .  .  . 

"  Put  right  ? "  said  Sophia,  behind  him. 
"  I  was  not  aware,    Peter,    that    the    clock 


|)criobic  tUratnings.  101 

was  out  of  order.  What  is  tlie  matter  with 
it  ? " 

He  almost  staggered  back  from  the  chimney- 
piece,  upon  which  he  had  found  himself  lean- 
ing in  an  attitude  of  earnest  persuasion. 

"  I — I  was  only  thinking,  my  love,"  he  said, 
"  that  it  wanted  regulating." 

"  If  it  does,"  said  Sopliia,  "  you  are  hardly 
the  proper  person  to  do  it  Peter.  The  less 
you  meddle  with  it  the  better,  I  should 
think  !  " 

"  Perhaps  so,  my  dear  Sophia,  perhaps  so  !  " 
said  Peter,  sitting  down  Avith  the  utmost  do- 
cility. 

He  had  narrowly  escaped  exciting  suspicion. 
It  was  fortunate  that  there  was  nothing  com- 
promising in  the  few  words  she  had  overheard, 
but  he  must  not  allow  himself  to  be  caught  so 
near  the  clock  again. 

He  was  not  a  little  disturbed  by  the  tenor  of 
this  last  interview.  It  was  bad  enough  that  in 
some  way  he  seemed  to  have  seriously  dis- 
pleased Miss  Davenport ;  but,  besides  that,  he 
could  not  contemplate  without  uneasiness  the 
probable  effect  which  her  confidences,  what- 
ever their  exact  purport,  might  have  upon 


102         STottrtnolin's  (Jinte  (Iljcqtjes. 

Miss  Tjrrell.  For  liitlierto  he  had  seen  no 
necessity  to  mention  to  one  young  lady  that  he 
was  even  distantly  acquainted  with  the  other. 
As  he  never  by  any  chance  drew  them  both  to- 
gether, there  seemed  no  object  in  volunteering 
such  information. 

But  this  only  made  him  more  apprehensive 
of  a  scene  when  his  next  turn  with  Miss  Tyr- 
rell arrived.  Perhaps,  he  thought,  it  would  be 
wiser  to  keep  away  from  the  Boomerang  for  a 
week  or  two,  and  give  them  all  time  to  calm 
down  a  little. 

However,  he  had  the  moral,  or  rather  the 
immoral,  courage  to  present  a  check  as  usual 
at  the  end  of  the  next  week,  with  results  that 
were  even  less  in  accordance  with  his  anticipa- 
tions than  before. 

It  came  about  in  this  way.  He  was  com- 
fortably seated  by  the  fireplace  opposite  Sophia 
in  a  cosy,  domesticated  fashion,  and  was  read- 
ing to  her  aloud  ;  for  he  had  been  let  off  the 
orrery  that  evening.  The  book  he  was  reading 
by  Sophia's  particular  request  was  Ibsen's 
DoWs  House,  and  it  was  not  the  fault  of  the 
subject  (which  interested  her  deeply),  but  of 
Peter's  elocution,  which  was  poor,  that,  on 


Periobic  lUratDings.  103 

glancing  from  the  text,  he  found  that  she 
had  sunk  into  a  profound  and  peaceful  slum- 
ber. 

It  was  a  chance  he  had  been  waiting  for  all 
day.  He  was  rather  tired  of  Nora,  with  her 
innocence  and  her  macaroons,  her  tarantella 
and  her  taradiddles,  her  forgery  and  her  fancy 
dress,  and  he  had  the  cheque  by  him  in  readi- 
ness ;  so  he  stole  on  tiptoe  to  the  mantelpiece, 
slipped  the  paper  under  the  clock,  and  was  just 
in  time  to  sink  back  into  his  easy-chair  before 
it  turned  out  to  be  one  of  the  revolving-seats 
in  the  dining-saloon  on  the  Boomerang. 

There  was  a  tumbler  of  whisky-and-seltzer 
on  the  table  in  front  of  him,  and  he  was  sitting 
in  close  confabulation  with  his  former  acquaint- 
ance, Mr.  Perkins,  the  bank  manager. 

"  That's  precisely  what  I  don't  know,  sir, 
and  what  I'm  determined  to  find  out ! "  were 
the  first  words  he  heard  from  the  latter  gentle- 
man, who  looked  flushed  and  angry.  "  But 
it's  a  scandalous  thing,  isn't  it  ? " 

"  Yery,"  said  Peter,  rather  bored  and  deeply 
disappointed  ;  for  the  manager  was  but  an  in- 
different substitute  for  the  companion  he  had 
been  counting  upon.     "  Oh,  very ! " 


104         gTcnrmaiin's  ®imc  Cljequcs. 

"  Have  you  liappened  to  hear  anything  said 
about  it  yourself  ? "  inquired  his  friend. 

"  ISTot  a  word ! "  said  Peter,  with  the  veracity 
he  always  endeavored  to  maintain  on  these  oc- 
casions. 

"  To  go  and  shift  a  statement  of  that  kind 
on  to  my  shoulders  like  that,  it's  like  the  fel- 
low's confounded  impudence ! " 

For  the  moment  Peter  felt  a  twinge  ;  could 
the  other  be  referring  to  anything  he  had  said 
himself  in  the  music-room  ?  But  the  manager 
was  evidently  not  angry  with  Jiim,  so  it  must 
be  some  other  fellow.  Only  Peter  decided  not 
to  allude  to  the  faulty  working  of  the  time 
cheques,  as  he  had  half  intended  to  do.  Perkins 
was  not  in  the  mood  for  remonstrances  just  then. 

"  Most  impudent,  I  must  say,"  he  replied. 
"  By  the  way,"  he  added  carelessly,  "  what  was 
the  statement  exactly  ? " 

"  Why,  God  bless  my  soul,  sir ! "  cried  the 
manager,  with  unnecessary  vehemence,"  haven't 
I  been  telling  you  the  whole  story?  Didn't 
you  just  ask  me  who  the  fellow  was  who  has 
brought  me  into  this  business  ? " 

"  So  I  did,"  said  Peter,  "  and — and  who  was 
he?" 


|)erioMc  UDratDings.  105 

"  Your  attention  seems  very  wandering  this 
evening!  Why,  I  told  you  the  old  woman 
wouldn't  give  me  bis  name." 

Peter's  alarm  returned  at  this  allusion  to  an 
old  woman ;  what  old  woman  could  it  be  but 
the  terrible  matron  whom  he  had  encountered 
in  the  music-room  ?  However,  it  was  fortunate 
that  she  had  not  mentioned  any  names  ;  if  Per- 
kins knew  that  he  had  put  all  the  blame  of  his 
entanglements  upon  the  manager's  broad  shoul- 
ders, he  would  certainly  consider  it  an  ungrate- 
ful return  for  what  was  intended  as  a  kindness. 

"  So  you  said  before,"  he  remarked ;  "  some 
old  women  are  so  obstinate ! " 

"  Obstinate  ?  That's  the  first  sensible  remark 
you've  made  for  a  long  while  !  "  said  his  candid 
friend.  "  I  should  think  she  was  obstinate ! 
"Wliy,  I  talked  myself  hoarse  trying  to  make 
that  old  harridan  believe  that  I  was  as  innocent 
as  an  unborn  babe  of  any  responsibility  for  this 
precious  scandal — that  I'd  never  so  much  as 
heard  it  breathed  till  she  told  me  of  it ;  but  it 
wasn't  any  good,  sir ;  she  would  have  it  that  I 
was  the  originator !  " 

("  So  you  were  !  "  thought  Peter,  though  he 
prudently  refrained  from  saying  so.) 


106         STourmolin's  ®imc  <tl)eqnes. 

"  She's  going  to  kick  up  the  dooce's  own 
dehght  as  soon  as  she  meets  her  brother ;  and 
all  I  could  get  her  to  say  was  that  then,  and 
not  till  then,  she  would  give  me  an  opportunity 
of  having  it  out  with  the  cowardly  villain, 
whoever  he  may  he,  that  has  dared  to  lay  all 
this  gossip  at  my  door  !  " 

Peter  did  not  quarrel  with  this  arrange- 
ment of  the  old  lady's,  for  he  would  certainly 
not  be  on  board  the  Boomerang  when  she  ar- 
rived at  Plymouth, 

"  Ah  !  "  he  said,  with  as  much  interest  as 
he  could  display  in  a  subject  that  did  not  con- 
cern him,  "  he'll  find  that  unpleasant,  I  dare 
say." 

"  I  think  he  will !  "  said  Mr.  Perkins,  em- 
phatically. "  Unless  he  retracts  his  infamous 
calumny.  I — I'll  kick  him  from  one  end  of 
the  ship  to  the  other  !  " 

Involuntarily  Peter's  eyes  sought  his 
friend's  boots,  which,  as  he  sat  in  a  corner 
seat  with  his  feet  extended,  were  much  in  evi- 
dence ;  they  were  strong,  suitable  boots,  stouter 
than  those  generally  worn  on  a  sea-voyage, 
and  Peter  could  not  repress  a  slight  shudder. 

"  From  one  end  of  the  ship  to  the  other," 


periodic  iDramngs.  107 

he  repeated  ;  "  that  —  that's  rather  a  long 
way !  " 

"  Quite  long  enough  for  hhn ,  though  not 
nearly  long  enough  for  me  !  "  said  the  JMana- 
ger.  "  I'll  teach  him  to  mix  me  up  in  these 
squabbles,  when  I  find  him,  sir — when  I  find 
him!  Here,  steward,  bring  some  more  of 
these  dry  biscuits ;  you'll  have  some  more, 
won't  you  ? " 

But  Peter  was  not  in  the  vein  for  dry 
biscuits  at  that  moment,  and  the  Manager  con- 
tinued : 

"  By-the-by,  you  might  help  me  in  this  if 
you  only  will.  I  want  to  find  out  if  I  can 
before  we  reach  Gib,  who  this  fellow  is,  but 
the  less  I  talk  about  the  affair  the  better." 

"Oh!  yes,"  said  Peter.  "  I— I  wouldn't 
talk  about  it  at  all,  if  I  were  you." 

"  No.  I  dare  say  you're  right  —  can't  be 
too  careful  with  an  old  cat  like  that.  Well, 
what  I  want  you  to  do  is  to  try  and  find  out 
— quietly,  you  know — who  this  infernal  fellow 
is!" 

"  Well,  I  dare  say  I  could  do  that,"  said 
Peter. 

"No  one   would  think    a    mild,  innocent- 


108         STonrmalin's  ®imc  (iL\)eqncB. 

looking  little  cliap  like  you  had  any  particular 
motive  for  asking :  you  might  ask  some  of 
the  men  in  the  smoking-room,  and  pick  up 
some  clew  or  other." 

"  So  I  might,"  said  Peter, — "  good  idea !  " 

"  Or,  I'll  tell  you  what — you  might  pump 
the  old  lady  for  me,  eh  ? " 

"  I  don't  think  I  quite  care  about  pumping 
the  old  lady,"  said  Peter,  "  but  anything  else 
I'll  do  with  pleasure." 

"  Thanks,"  said  the  Manager,  "  that's  a 
good  fellow.  I  knew  I  could  depend  upon 
you  !  " 

"  Ton  can,"  replied  Peter,  "  though,  I 
fancy,"  he  added,  soothingly — "  indeed,  I  am 
sure  you  will  find  that  the  old  woman  has 
made  a  good  deal  out  of  nothing  at  all."  .  .  . 

"  W7iat  old  woman,  Peter  ?  "  asked  Sophia 
whith  drowsy  asperity.  "  Not  Mrs.  Linden, 
surely  !  " 

Mrs.  Linden !  "Was  that  the  name  of  the 
old  she-dragon  of  the  music-room  ?  Why,  of 
course  not;  he  was  in  his  arm-chair  by  his 
own  fire,  reading  Ibsen  to  his  wife ! 

"  I  don't  know,  indeed,  my  love — it  may 
be  Mrs.  Linden,"  he  answered  cautiously. 


Pcriobic  IJUrowings.  109 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  Sophia,  crossly.  "  She's 
not  meant  to  be  old  in  the  play,  and  who  says 
'  the  old  woman  has  made  a  good  deal  ont  of 
nothing  % '  Helmer,  or  Doctor  Rank,  or  Krog- 
stad,  or  who  ?  You  do  read  so  badly,  it's 
quite  impossible  to  make  out ! " 

"  No  one  says  it,  my  dear  Sophia ;  at  least, 
it's  not  in  my  edition  of  the  text.  You — you 
must  have  imagined  it,  I  think  !  " 

"I  certainly  thought  I  heard  you  read  it 
out,"  she  replied  ;  "  but  your  voice  is  so  mo- 
notonous, that  it's  just  possible  I  dropped  off 
for  a  minute  or  two." 

"  I  dropped  off  myself  about  the  same 
time,"  he  confessed  hypocritically. 

"  You  wouldn't  drop  off,  or  allow  me  to 
drop  off  either,  Peter,"  said  Sophia,  who  was 
now  thoroughly  awake  again,  "if  you  felt  a 
more  intelligent  interest  in  the  tremendous 
problem  Ibsen  has  set  in  this  play.  I  don't 
believe  you  realize  in  the  least  M'hat  the  les- 
son is  that  he  means  to  teach  ;  now  do  you, 
Peter?" 

"  Well,  I'm  not  sure  that  I  do  altogether,  my 
love,"  he  admitted. 

"I  thought  as  much!     "What  Ibsen  insists 


110         Sonrmalin's  ®inte  Cljeqties. 

upon  is,  the  absolute  necessity  of  one-ness  be- 
tween man  and  wife,  Peter.  They  must  belong 
to  each  other,  complete  each  other — they  must 
be  Twin  Souls.    Are  you  a  Twin  Soul,  Peter  ? " 

"  Upon  my  word,  my  dear,  I  can't  say ! "  he 
repHed,  in  some  perplexity.  In  the  present 
very  divided  state  of  his  sympathies,  he  could 
not  help  thinking  that  his  Soul  was  more  like 
a  Triplet. 

"  But  think,"  persisted  Sophia,  earnestly  : 
"  have  you  shared  all  your  Past  with  me  ?  Is 
there  nothing  you  have  kept  back — no  feel- 
ings, no  experiences,  which  you  confine  to 
your  own  bosom  ?  When  you  left  me  to  take 
that  voyage,  you  promised  that  nothing  should 
induce  you  to  be  more  than  civil  to  any  woman, 
however  young  and  attractive,  with  whom  Fate 
might  bring  you  in  contact.  I  want  you  to  tell 
me,  Peter,  whether,  when  you  were  returning 
home  on  board  the  Boomerang,  you  kept  that 
promise  or  not  ? " 

Fortunately  for  him,  she  put  her  question 
in  a  form  which  made  it  easy  to  give  a  satis- 
factory and  a  truthful  answer. 

"  When  I  was  returning  home  on  board  the 
Boomerang,^''  he  said,  "  I  did  not,  to  the  best  of 


IPcriobic  SIlratDings.  Ill 

my  recollection  and  belief,  exchange  two  words 
with  any  female  whatever,  attractive  or  other- 
wise— until,"  he  added,  with  a  timely  recollec- 
tion that  she  had  come  on  board  at  Gibraltar — 
"until  I  met  you.  You  pain  me  with  these 
suspicions,  Sophia — you  do,  indeed  ! " 

"  I  believe  you,  Peter,"  she  said,  moved  by 
his  sincerity,  which,  paradoxical  as  it  may 
sound,  was  quite  real ;  for  his  intentions  had 
been  so  excellent  throughout,  that  he  felt  in- 
jured by  her  doubts.  "  You  have  never  told 
me  a  falsehood  yet ;  but  for  some  time  I  have 
been  tormented  by  a  fancy  that  you  were  con- 
cealing something  from  me.  I  can  hardly  say 
what  gave  me  such  an  im^^ression — a  glance, 
a  tone,  trifles  which,  I  am  glad  to  think  now, 
had  not  the  importance  I  invested  them  with. 
Ah,  Peter,  never  treat  me  as  Helmer  did  Nora ! 
Never  shut  me  out  from  the  serious  side  of 
your  life,  and  think  to  make  amends  by  calling 
me  your  '  little  lark,'  or  your  '  squirrel ; '  you 
nmst  not  look  upon  me  as  a  mere  doll ! " 

"  My  dear  Sophia ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  should 
never  think  of  addressing  you  as  either  a  squirrel 
or  a  lark  ;  and  any  one  less  like  a  doll  in  every 
respect  I  never  met ! " 


113         Sonrmalin's  ®ime  dljeqnes. 

"  I  hope  you  will  always  think  so,  Peter," 
she  said ;  "  for  I  tell  you  frankly,  that  if  I 
once  discovered  that  you  had  ceased  to  trust 
me,  that  you  lived  in  a  world  apart  into  which 
I  was  not  admitted,  that  very  moment,  Pe- 
ter, I  should  act  just  as  I^ora  did — I  should 
leave  you  ;  for  our  marriage  would  have 
ceased  to  be  one  in  any  true  sense  of  the 
word  ! " 

The  mere  idea  of  being  abandoned  by  So- 
phia made  him  shiver.  What  a  risk  he  had 
been  running,  after  all  1  Was  it  worth  while 
to  peril  his  domestic  happiness  for  the  sake 
of  a  few  more  conversations  with  two  young 
ladies,  whose  remarks  were  mostly  enigmatic, 
and  for  whom  he  was  conscious  in  his  heart 
of  hearts  of  not  caring  two  straws  ? 

"  Sophia,"  he  said  plaintively,  "  don't  talk 
of  lea\dng  me!  What  should  I  do  without 
you?  Who  would  teach  me  Astronomy  and 
things  ?  You  knoio  I  don't  care  for  anybody 
but  you!  Why  will  you  dwell  on  such  un- 
pleasant subjects  ? " 

"  I  was  wrong,  Peter,"  she  confessed — "  in- 
deed, I  doubt  you  no  longer.  It  was  all  my 
morbid  imagination   that  led  me  to  do  you 


Periobic  tUrntxiinigs.  113 

such  injustice.  Forgive  me,  and  let  us  t^aj  no 
more  about  it ! " 

"  I  do  forgive  you,"  was  his  generous  reply 
to  this  appeal,  which,  coming  from  Soj)hia, 
was  a  very  handsome  apology,  "  and  we  will 
say  no  more  about  it." 

And,  upon  the  whole,  Peter  thought  he  had 
got  out  of  a  particularly  tight  place  with  more 
credit  than  he  had  any  reason  to  expect — a  con- 
clusion in  which  the  reader,  however  much  he 
or  she  may  disapprove  of  his  conduct  on  moral 
grounds,  \vill  probably  be  inclined  to  agree  with 
him. 


CHAPTER  YL 

FOIL   AND    COUNTERFOIL. 

The  Duties  of  Authorship, — Peter's  Continued  Perversity 
and  its  Unforeseen  Results. — ^^ Alfred.'''' — The  Tragic 
Note. — An  Interrupted  Crisis. — A  Domestic  Surprise. 

It  Avould  be  more  satisfactory  to  an  author's 
feelings,  especially  when  he  is  aware  that  he 
will  be  held  accountable  by  an  indignant  pub- 
lic for  the  slightest  deviation  on  his  hero's  part 
from  the  narrow  path  of  ideal  rectitude — it 
would  be  more  satisfactory  to  be  able  to  record 
that  this  latest  warning  had  a  permanent  effect 
upon  Peter  Tourmalin's  rather  shifty  disposi- 
tion. 

But  an  author,  even  of  a  modest  perform- 
ance such  as  this,  can  not  but  feel  himself  in  a 
position  of  grave  responsibility.  He  must  re- 
late such  facts  as  he  has  been  able  to  collect, 
without  suppression  on  the  one  side  or  distor- 


Soil  arib  (Jlountcrfoil.  115 

tion  on  tlie  other.  It  is  a  duty  lie  can  not  and 
dare  not  evade,  under  penalty  of  forfeiting  the 
confidence  of  his  readers. 

Peter  Tourmalin  did  draw  more  Time 
Cheques,  he  did  go  back  to  the  Boomerang^ 
and  it  would  be  useless  to  assert  the  contrary. 
"We  may  be  able  to  rehabilitate  him  to  some 
extent  before  this  story  concludes  ;  at  present, 
we  can  only  follow  his  career  with  pain  and 
disapproval. 

Some  allowances  must  be  made  for  the  pe- 
culiar nature  of  the  case.  To  a  person  of  Pe- 
ter's natural  inclination  to  the  study  of  j^sy- 
chology,  there  was  a  strong  fascination  in 
watching  the  gradual  unfolding  and  revelation 
of  two  characters  so  opposite  and  so  interest- 
ing as  those  of  Miss  Tyrrell  and  Miss  Daven- 
port. That  was  the  point  of  view  he  took 
himself,  and  it  is  difficult  to  say  that  such  a 
plea  is  wholly  without  plausibility. 

Then,  too,  he  was  intensely  curious  to  know 
how  it  would  all  end,  and  he  might  ascertain 
that  in  the  very  next  quarter  of  an  horn*  he 
drew  ;  there  was  absolutely  no  telling. 

As  for  Sophia's  threat,  that  soon  lost  all 
terrors  for  him.     She  would  abandon  him,  no 


116         STottrmalin's  ®imc  (El)equc0. 

doubt,  if  she  ever  knew ;  but  who  was  going 
to  tell  her,  and  how  could  she  possibly  discover 
the  truth  unaided,  especially  now  that  her 
awakening  suspicions  had  been  lulled?  His 
secret  was  perfectly  safe,  and  he  could  unravel 
the  tangled  thread  of  the  history  of  his  remain- 
ing extra  hours  on  board  the  Boomerang  with- 
out any  other  hindrance  than  that  of  his  own 
scruples — which  practically  amounted  to  no 
hindrance  at  all. 

So  Peter  continued  to  be  the  slave  of  his 
clock  and  his  cheque-book,  from  the  counter- 
foils of  which  he  was  disagreeably  surprised  to 
discover  that  he  had  drawn  more  frequently, 
and  in  consequence  had  an  even  smaller  balance 
left  to  his  credit  than  he  had  supposed. 

However,  he  consoled  himself  by  concluding 
that  one  or  two  cheques  had  probably  been 
mislaid,  and  were  still  unpresented,  while  he 
was  entitled  to  some  additional  time  in  respect 
of  compound  interest ;  so  that  he  need  not 
stint  himself  at  present.  Fifteen  minutes  a 
week  was  not  an  extravagant  allowance ;  and 
sooner  or  later,  even  with  the  utmost  economy, 
a  day  would  come  when  his  balance  would  be 
exhausted,  and  his  cheques  returned  from  the 


i^oil  an&  Olcuntcrfoii.  117 

clock  marked  "  IS'o  effects — refer  to  drawer," 
or  some  equivalent  intimation. 

But  that  day  was  still  distant,  and  in  the  mean 
time  he  went  on  drawing  with  a  light  heart. 

It  was  a  Saturday  evening,  the  day  on  which 
Peter  generally  presented  his  weekly  cheque ; 
but,  although  it  was  nearly  half-past  ten,  he 
had  had  no  opportunity  of  doing  so  as  yet. 
He  was  in  the  drawing-room,  and  Sophia  was 
readmg  aloud  to  him  this  time,  an  article  on 
"  Bi-metalism  "  from  one  of  the  reviews ;  for  she 
had  been  an  ardent  bi-metalist  from  early  girl- 
hood, and  she  naturally  wished  to  win  Peter 
from  his  Laodicean  apathy  on  so  momentous  a 
subject.  He  listened  with  surface  resignation, 
although  inwardly  he  was  in  a  fever  of  impa- 
tience to  get  back  upon  the  Boomerang,  where 
Miss  Davenport  had  been  more  interesting  than 
usual  on  his  last  visit.  But  he  could  hardly 
rise  and  slip  a  cheque  under  the  clock  before 
Sophia's  very  eyes  without  inventing  some 
decent  pretext  for  such  an  action,  and  bi-metal- 
ism had  reduced  him  to  a  mental  condition 
which  was  no  longer  fertile  in  expedients. 

Suddenly  Sophia  stopped  reading  and  re- 
marked : 


118         STonrmalin's  Sintc  ClicqttCB. 

"  If  I  remember  right,  Professor  Dibbs 
has  stated  the  argument  more  correctly  in  his 
httle  book  on  Currency.  It  would  be  inter- 
esting to  compare  the  two ;  I'll  get  it." 

As  Professor  Dibbs's  work  was  apparently 
on  a  shelf  in  the  study,  Sophia  took  the  lamp 
into  the  further  room. 

'•  Now's  my  time !  "  thought  Peter,  as  he 
brought  out  the  cheque  from  his  waistcoat- 
pocket.  "  I  mayn't  get  such  another  chance 
this  evening." 

Even  if  Sophia  could  lay  her  hand  on  the 
volume  at  once,  he  would  have  had  his  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  and  be  comfortably  back  long 
before  she  could  pass  the  arch  which  sepa- 
rated the  two  rooms ;  for,  as  we  have  seen,  this 
instantaneous  action  was  one  of  the  chief  rec- 
ommendations of  the  Time  Cheques, 

So  he  cashed  his  cheque,  and  was  at  once 
transported  to  the  secluded  passage  between 
the  deck-cabins,  the  identical  place  where  he 
had  first  conversed  with  Miss  Davenport.  He 
was  on  the  same  steamer-chair,  too,  and  she 
was  at  his  side ;  the  wind  carried  the  faint 
strains  of  a  set  of  "  Lancers  "  to  them  ;  from 
aU  of  which  circumstances  he  drew  the  infer- 


i^oil  anb  (Honntcrfoil.  119 

ence  tliat  he  was  going  to  be  favored  with  the 
sequel  to  the  conversation  that  had  been  so 
incongruously  broken  in  upon  by  Sophia's 
question  respecting  the  comparative  merits  of 
bottle-jacks  in  the  Tottenham  Court  Road 
warehouse.  This  was  so  far  satisfactory,  in- 
dicating as  it  did  that  he  was  at  last,  after 
so  much  trying  back,  to  make  some  real 
progress. 

"  What  I  want  to  know  first,"  Miss  Daven- 
port was  saying,  "  is  whether  you  are  capable 
of  facing  danger  for  my  sake  ? " 

"  I  thought,"  he  remonstrated  mildly,  "  that 
I  had  already  given  proof  of  that !  " 

"The  danger  you  faced  then  threatened 
only  me.  But,  supposing  you  had  to  meet  a 
danger  to  yourself,  could  you  be  firm  and 
cool  ?     Much  will  depend  on  that." 

"  I — I  think,"  he  answered  frankly,  "  that 
perhaps  you  had  better  not  count  upon  me. 
I  have  never  been  a  man  to  court  danger ;  it 
might  find  me  equal  to  it  if  it  came — or  it 
might  not." 

He  did  not  mean  to  give  it  the  oppor- 
tunity. 

"  Then  we  are  lost,  that  is  all ! "  she  said, 


120         ®0itrmalin'0  ®ime  Qri)eqtics. 

with  gloom  J  conviction.  "  Lost,  both  of 
us !  " 

Peter  certainly  intended  to  be  lost  if  the 
moment  of  trial  ever  arrived.  Even  now  he 
was  resohang,  for  about  the  twentieth  time 
that  this  positively  should  be  his  very  last 
cheque ;  for  he  by  no  means  liked  the  man- 
ner in  which  the  situation  seemed  to  be  de- 
veloping. 

But,  seeing  that  the  danger,  whatever  it 
might  be,  was  still  far  enough  off,  he  thought, 
very  sensibly,  that  it  would  be  a  pity  to  cloud 
this  last  interview  by  any  confession  of  pusilla- 
nimity. Knowing  that  he  would  return  no 
more,  he  could  surely  afford  to  treat  with 
contempt  any  consequences  his  imprudence 
might  have  entailed. 

So  he  laughed,  as  he  said : 

"  You  musn't  conclude  that  I'm  a  coward 
because  I  don't  care  to  boast.  On  the  con- 
trary, I  believe  I  am  not  exactly  deficient  in 
physical  courage." 

"  You  are  not  ? "  she  cried,  relieved.  "  Then 
— then  you  would  not  be  afraid  to  face  a  des- 
perate man  ? " 

"  Not  a  dozen  desperate  men,  if  it  comes  to 


iToil  arib  OTountcrfoil.  121 

tliat !  "  said  Peter,  supported  by  tlie  certainty 
that  it  would  not  come  to  so  much  as  half  a 
desperate  man. 

"  Then  I  can  tell  you  nozv  what  I  have 
scarcely  dared  to  think  of  before.  Peter,  you 
will  have  to  reckon  with  Alfred  !  " 

"  Well,  I'm  not  much  alarmed  at  anything 
Alfred  may  do  !  "  said  Peter,  wondering  who 
the  deuce  Alfred  was. 

"  He  will  come  on  board ;  he  will  demand 
an  explanation ;  he  will  insist  on  seeing  you ! " 
she  cried. 

"Z<?^  him  !  "  said  Peter. 

"  You  are  brave — braver  even  than  I  thought ; 
but,  ah !  Peter,  you  don't  know  what  Alfred 
is!" 

Peter  did  not  even  know  who  Alfred  was, 
but  he  was  unmoved. 

"  You  leave  Alfred  to  me,"  he  said,  confi- 
dently, "  I'll  settle  him  I  " 

"  But  I  must  tell  you  all.  I — I  led  you  to 
believe  that  Alfred  would  raise  no  objections ; 
that  he  would  quietly  accept  facts  which  it  is 
useless  to  contend  against.  He  will  do  nothing 
of  the  sort !  He  is  a  man  of  violent  passions 
— fierce  and  relentless  when  wronged.     In  the 


122         dCourmalin  s  ®ime  QIt)eques. 

first  burst  of  fuiy  at  meeting  you,  when  lie 
comes  on  board,  he  is  capable  of  some  terrible 
vengeance,  which  nothing  but  perfect  coolness 
on  your  part — perhaps  not  even  that — will  be 
able  to  avert.  And  I — I  have  brought  this 
upon  you ! " 

"  Don't  cry,"  said  Peter.  "  You  see,  I'm 
perfectly  calm.  /  don't  mind  it.  If  Alfred 
considers  himself  wronged  by  me — though, 
what  I  have  ever  done  to  give  him  any  reason 
for  revenging  himself  by  personal  violence,  I 
must  say  I  can't  conceive — " 

She  stopped  him. 

"  Ah !  you  have  given  him  cause  enough  ! " 
she  cried.  "What  is  the  use  of  taking  that 
tone  to  me  ? " 

"  I  want  to  see  Alfred's  point  of  view,  that's 
all,"  said  Peter.  "  What  does  he  complain 
of?" 

"  ~Wliat  does  lie  comjylain  off  Tou  ask  me 
that,  when — Peter,"  she  broke  off  suddenly, 
"  there  is  somebody  round  the  corner  Hstening 
to  us — a  woman,  I'm  sure  of  it.  I  heard  the 
rustle  of  a  dress.  .  .  .  Go  and  see  if  there  is 
not!" 

Go  and  see,  and  find  himself  face  to  face 


iToil  arib  (jlountcrfoil.  123 

with  Miss  Tyrrell,  who  might  faint  or  go  into 
hysterics.     Peter  knew  better  than  that. 

"  It's  merely  your  fancy,"  he  said,  soothing- 
ly. "  Who  can  be  there  ?  They  are  all  at  the 
other  end  of  the  ship,  dancing.  Go  on  telling 
me  about  Alfred.  I  don't  yet  understand  how 
I  have  managed  to  offend  him." 

"  Are  you  really  so  dull,"  she  said,  mth  a 
slight  touch  of  temper,  "  that  you  can't  see 
that  a  man  who  thought  he  was  going  to  meet 
the  woman  he  was  engaged  to,  and  finds  she 
has  learned  to  care  for — for  somebody  else,  is 
likely,  even  if  he  was  the  mildest  man  in  the 
world — which  Alfred  is  far  from  being — to 
betray  some  annoyance  ? " 

"  No,  I  see  that,"  said  Peter ;  "  but — but  he 
can't  blame  me.     /  couldn't  help  it ! " 

He  said  this,  although  her  last  speech  had 
opened  his  eyes  considerably.  He  knew  now 
who  AKred  was,  and  also  that,  in  some  moment 
of  madness  which  was  in  one  of  the  quarters 
of  an  hour  he  had  not  yet  drawn,  he  must  have 
placed  himself  in  the  position  of  Alfred's  rival. 

What  was  he  to  do  ?  He  could  not,  without 
brutality,  tell  this  poor  girl  that  he  had  not  the 
smallest  intention  of  depriving  Alfred  of  her 


124         (ZTonrmaiin's  ®ime  (E:l)cqttes. 

affections ;  it  was  better,  and  easier  too,  to 
humor  her  for  the  sliort  time  that  remained. 

"  Alfred  will  not  take  that  as  an  excuse," 
she  said.  "It  is  true  we  could  neither  of  us 
help  what  has  happened,  but  that  will  not  alter 
the  fact  that  he  is  quite  capable  of  shooting  us 
both  the  instant  he  comes  on  deck.  Alfred  is 
like  that ! " 

"  Well,"  said  Peter,  unable  to  abstain  from 
a  little  more  of  such  very  cheap  heroism,  "  I 
do  not  fear  death — with  you  !  " 

"  Saj  that  once  more,"  she  said  ;  which  Peter 
very  obligingly  did.  "  Oh,  Peter,  how  I  ad- 
mire you  now  !  How  little  I  knew  you  were 
capable  of  going  so  calmly  to  your  doom ! 
You  give  me  courage.  I  feel  that  I,  too,  can 
face  death  ;  only  not  that  death — it  is  so  horrid 
to  be  shot ! " 

"  It  would  be  unpleasant,"  said  Peter,  placid- 
ly, "  but  soon  over." 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  couldn't  bear  it.  I  can 
see  him  pointing  his  revolver — for  he  always 
carries  one,  even  at  a  picnic — first  at  yotir 
head,  then  mine  !  !N"o,  Peter ;  since  we  must 
die,  I  prefer  at  least  to  do  so  without  blood- 
shed!" 


i^oil  arib  (irottntcrfoil.  125 

"  So  do  I,"  he  agreed,  "  very  much." 

"  You  do  ? "  she  cried.  "  Then,  oh,  Peter ! 
why  should  we  wait  any  longer  for  a  fate  that 
is  inevitable  ?     Let  us  do  it  now,  together ! " 

"  Do  what  ? "  said  Peter. 

"  Slip  over  the  side  together ;  it  would  be 
quite  easy,  no  one  will  see  us.  Let  us  plunge 
arm-in-arm  into  the  merciful  sea !  A  little 
struggle — a  moment's  battle  for  breath — then 
all  will  be  over ! " 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it  ivoidd  be  over  then  "  ; 
he  said ;  "  but  we  should  have  to  swallow  such 
a  lot  of  salt  water  first !  " 

He  reflected  that,  even  if  he  emerged  from 
the  agonies  of  drowning,  to  find  himself  bi- 
metalizing  with  Sophia,  the  experience  would 
be  none  the  less  unpleasant  while  it  lasted. 
There  really  must  be  some  limit  to  his  com- 
plaisance, and  he  set  it  at  suicide. 

"  JS'o,"  he  said  ;  "  I  have  always  held  that  to 
escape  a  difficulty  by  putting  an  end  to  one's 
own  life  is  a  cowardly  proceeding.'^ 

"  I  am  a  coward,"  she  said  ;  "  but  oh,  Peter, 
be  a  coward  with  me  for  once ! " 

"  Ask  me  anything  else  ! "  he  said  firmly, 
but  not  stoop  to  cowardice.     There  is  really 


126         ©onrmalin's  Sitne  ©Ijcques. 

no  necessity  for  it,  you  see,"  lie  added,  feeling 
that  he  had  better  speak  out  plainly.  "  I  have 
no  doubt  that  Alfred  will  listen  to  reason  ;  and 
when  he  is  told  that,  although,  as  is  excusable 
enough  witli  two  natures  that  have  much  in 
common,  we — we  have  found  a  mutual  pleas- 
ure in  each  other's  society — there  has  been 
nothing  on  either  side  inconsistent  with  the — 
the  mo^  ordinary  friendship ;  when  he  hears 
that  .  .  .  Wliere  are  you  going  ?  "  for  she  was 
rising  from  her  chair. 

"  Where  am  I  going  ? "  she  replied,  mth  an 
unsteady  lawgh.  "Why,  overboard,  if  you 
care  to  know  !  " 

"  But  you  mustn't ! "  he  cried,  scarcely  know- 
ing what  he  said.  "  The — the  captain  wouldn't 
like  it.  There's  a  penalty,  I'm  sure,  for  leav- 
ing the  ship  while  it's  in  motion — I've  seen  it 
on  a  notice  !  " 

"  There  is  a  penalty  for  having  believed  in 
you,"  she  replied  bitterly,  "  and  I  am  going  to 
pay  it ! " 

She  broke  away  and  rushed  out  upon  the 
deck  into  the  starlight,  with  Peter  in  pursuit. 
Here  was  a  nice  result  of  his  philandering,  he 
thought  bitterly.    And  yet,  what  had  he  done  ? 


-foil  arib  Qlonnterfoil.  127 

How  could  he  help  the  consequences  of  follies 
committed  in  time  he  had  not  even  spent  yet  ? 
However,  what  he  had  to  do  now  was  to  pre- 
vent Miss  Davenport  from  leaping  overboard 
at  any  cost.  He  would  even  promise  to  jump 
over  with  her,  if  that  would  soothe  her,  and  of 
course  he  could  appoint  some  time  next  day — 
say,  after  breakfast  for  the  performance. 

He  ran  down  the  shadowy  deck  until  he 
overtook  a  fl^'ing  female  form,  whose  hand 
he  seized  as  she  crouched  against  the  bul- 
warks. 

"Miss  Davenport,  if  you  will  only  just 
..."  he  began,  when,  without  warning,  he 
found  himself  back  upon  his  own  hearth-rug, 
holding  Sophia  firmly  by  the  wrist ! 

He  felt  confused,  as  well  he  *iight,  but  he 
tried  to  pass  it  oft". 

"  Did  you  find  Dibbs  on  Currency^  my  dear  ? " 
he  inquired,  with  a  ghastly  smile,  as  he  dro]3ped 
her  hand. 

"  I  did  not,"  said  Sophia,  gravely ;  "  I  was 
otherwise  engaged.  Peter,  what  have  you  been 
doing  ? " 

"  What  have  I  been  doing  ? "  he  said. 
"  Why,  it's  not  a  minute  since  you  went  into 


128         (ZTourmalin's  Sime  (fri)equcs. 

the  study  to  get  that  book ;  look  at  the  clock 
and  see ! " 

"  Don't  appeal  to  the  clock,  Peter — answer 
my  question.    How  have  you  been  occupied  ? " 

"I've  been  waiting  for  you  to  finish  that 
article  on  bi-metalism,"  he  had  the  hardihood 
to  say.  "  Deuced  well-written  article  it  is,  too ; 
so  clear ! " 

"  I  don't  refer  to  what  you  were  doing  here," 
said  Sophia.  "  What  were  you  doing  on  board 
the  Boomerang  f  " 

"  It — it's  so  long  ago  that  I  really  forget," 
he  said.  "  I — I  read  Buckle  on  deck,  and  I 
talked  Math  a  man  named  Perkins — nice  fellow 
he  was — manager  of  a  bank  out  in  Australia." 

"  It's  useless  to  prevaricate,  Peter !  "  she 
said.  "  "What  I  w^ant  to  know  is,  who  was  that 
girl,  and  why  should  she  attempt  to  destroy 
herself?" 

He  could  hardly  believe  his  ears. 

"  Girl ! "  he  stammered.  "  How  do  you 
know  that  any  girl  attemj)ted  anything  of  that 
sort  ? " 

"  How  do  I  know,  Peter  ? "  said  Sophia.  "  I 
will  tell  you  how  I  know.  /  was  on  hoard  the 
Boomerang  too  I " 


iToil  anb  Qlounterfoil.  129 

At  this  awful  piece  of  intelligence,  Peter 
dropped  into  liis  arm-chair,  speechless  and 
quaking.  What  would  come  next  he  could 
not  tell ;  but  anytliing  seemed  possible,  and 
even  probable,  after  that ! 


CHAPTER  yil. 

THE   CULMINATING   CHEQUE. 

Sophia  gives  an  Explanation  and  Requests  one. — Her 
Verdict. — Peter  Overruled, 

"  Before  I  say  anything  else,"  said  Sophia, 
who  was  still  standing  npon  the  hearth-rug, 
gazing  down  upon  the  wretched  Peter  as  he  sat 
huddled  up  in  his  chair,  "  you  would  probably 
like  to  know  how  I  came  to  follow  you  to  that 
ship.  It  is  a  long  story,  but  I  will  tell  you  if 
you  wish  to  hear  ?  " 

Peter's  lips  moved  without  producing  any 
articulate  sounds,  and  Sophia  proceeded : 

"  Some  weeks  ago,"  she  said,  "  one  afternoon 
when  you  had  gone  out  for  a  walk,  I  found 
what  seemed  to  be  a  loose  cheque  on  the  carpet. 
I  knew  how  carelessly  you  leave  things  about, 
and  I  picked  it  up  and  found  that,  though  it 
was  like  a  cheque  in  other  respects,  it  was 


®l]e  Cnlminating  €l)cque.  131 

rather  curiously  worded.  I  could  not  under- 
stand it  at  all,  but  it  seemed  to  have  something 
to  do  with  the  ship  you  came  home  from  Aus- 
tralia in ;  so,  intending  to  ask  you  for  an  ex- 
planation when  you  came  in,  I  thought  in  the 
mean  time  I  would  put  it  in  some  safe  place 
where  I  should  be  sure  to  see  it,  and  I  put  it 
behind  the  clock ;  and  then — oh,  Peter ! — " 

Peter  understood.  The  cheques  were  all 
payable  to  "  self  or  bearer."  Sophia  had  inno- 
cently presented  one,  and  it  had  been  paid. 
If  he  had  only  taken  "  order "  cheques,  this 
would  not  have  happened,  but  it  was  too  late 
now !  He  continued  to  imitate  the  tactics  of 
that  eminent  strategist.  Brer  Eabbit ;  in  other 
words,  he  "lay  low  and  said  nuffin,"  while 
Sophia  continued  : 

"  Then,  without  in  the  least  knowing  how  I 
came  there,  I  found  I  was  on  a  big  steamer, 
and  as  I  walked  along,  perfectly  bewildered,  I 
saw  the  name  BooTnerang  painted  on  some 
fire-buckets,  and  of  course  I  knew  then  that 
that  was  your  ship.  I  fancied  that  perhaps, 
in  some  way,  you  might  be  on  board  too,  and 
would  explain  how  this  had  happened  to  me. 
At  all  events,  I  decided  to  find  out  if  you  were ; 


133         ®onrmalin's  STimc  Cl)cqties. 

and,  seeing  a  girl  reading  on  deck,  I  took  a 
chair  near  her,  and  after  a  few  introductory 
remarks  I  mentioned  your  name.  The  effect 
upon  her  was  such  as  to  convince  me  that  she 
felt  more  than  an  ordinary  interest  in  you.  By 
degrees  I  drew  from  her  the  whole  story  of 
her  relations  with  you :  she  even  asked  me — 
me — for  advice ! " 

So  Miss  Davenport's  confidante  had  not 
been  Miss  Tyrrell  after  all — but  Sophia !  If 
he  had  only  known  that  before ! 

"  I  could  not  speak  to  her,"  continued  So- 
phia, "  I  felt  stifled,  stupefied  by  what  I  had 
heard !  I  could  bear  no  more ;  and  so  I  rose 
and  left  her,  and  walked  down  some  stairs, 
and  somehow  found  myself  back  in  our  own 
room  ao;ain !  I  was  more  bewildered  than 
ever.  I  looked  for  the  cheque,  but  there  was 
nothing,  and  soon  I  was  forced  to  believe  that 
the  whole  thing  was  imaginary.  Still,  I  was 
not  wholly  satisfied.  You  may  remember 
how  I  questioned  you  one  evening  when  you 
were  reading  the  DoWs  House  to  me ;  well, 
your  answers  quite  reassured  me  for  the  time. 
I  told  myself  that  my  suspicions  were  too 
wildly  improbable  not  to  have  been  a  delusion. 


®l)c  (Culminating  (El}cquc.  133 

I  was  even  afraid  that  my  brain  must  be 
slightly  affected,  for  I  had  always  prided  my- 
self upon  having  my  imagination  under  thor- 
ough control.  But  by  degrees,  Peter — by  de- 
grees I  began  to  doubt  again  whether  it  was 
really  nothing  but  fancy  on  my  part.  I  noticed 
that  your  manner  was  suspiciously  odd  at 
times.  I  discovered  that  there  was  one  draw- 
er in  your  secretary  that  you  kept  carefully 
locked.  I  caught  your  eye  wandering  toward 
the  clock  from  time  to  time.  What  I  sus- 
pected I  hardly  know ;  but  I  felt  certain  that 
I  should  find  the  explanation  of  that  mystery 
in  the  locked  drawer.  I  tried  key  after  key, 
until  I  found  one  that  fitted.  Oh,  I  am  not 
at  all  ashamed  of  it !  Had  I  not  a  right  to 
know?  There  were  no  letters,  nothing  but  a 
cheque-book  ;  but  that  cheque-book  proved  to 
me  that,  after  all,  I  had  imagined  nothing : 
all  the  cheques  were  the  same  as  the  one  I 
found  on  the  carpet !  I  tore  one  out  and 
kept  it  by  me,  and  from  that  time  I  watched 
you  closely.  I  saw  how  restless  and  impa- 
tient }'ou  were  this  evening,  and  I  was  cer- 
tain that  you  were  intending  to  use  a  cheque 
from  that  book.     You  were  bent  on  getting 


134         tourmalin's  ®ime  Cll)equc0. 

back  to  the  Boomerang^  and  I  was  equally 
determined  that,  if  I  could  help  it,  you 
should  not  go  alone.  Only  I  could  not  be 
quite  sure  how  you  managed  to  get  there,  and 
at  last  I  hit  upon  a  little  device  for  finding 
out.  There  is  no  such  person  as  Professor 
Dibbs,  Peter ;  I  invented  him  to  put  you  off 
your  guard.  As  I  passed  into  the  other  room 
with  the  lamp,  I  saw  you,  reflected  in  the  mir- 
ror over  the  study  chimneypiece,  rise  and  go 
to  the  drawing-room  mantel j^iece :  you  had  a 
slip  of  paper  in  your  hand — a  cheque,  of 
course.  I  had  the  cheque  I  tore  out  hidden 
in  the  waistband  of  my  dress  ;  and  so,  as  soon 
as  I  saw  you  slip  your  cheque  behind  the  clock 
in  the  drawing-room,  I  put  my  cheque  behind 
the  one  in  the  study.  I  was  on  the  deck  at 
once,  and  it  was  dark,  but  I  could  hear  your 
voice  and  another's — round  a  corner.  I  held 
my  breath  and  listened.  What  I  heard,  you 
know ! " 

Peter  shrank  up  in  his  chair,  utterly  con- 
founded by  this  last  vagary  on  the  part  of  the 
Time  Cheques.  He  certainly  would  not  have 
supposed  that  the  mere  presentation  even  of  a 
"  bearer  "  cheque  by  Sophia  would  entitle  her 


®l)c  Ctilminoting  €l)cqtte.  135 

to  the  same  fifteen  minutes  he  was  receiving 
himself.  He  could  only  account  for  it  by  the 
fact  that  the  two  cheques  were  cashed  simul- 
taneously at  two  separate  clocks  ;  but  even  this 
explanation  was  not  wholly  satisfactory. 

He  found  his  voice  at  last : 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  now  that  you  know  all, 
what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it,  Sophia  ?  I 
— would  rather  know  the  worst !  " 

"  I  will  tell  you  that  in  good  time,"  she  re- 
plied ;  "  but,  first  of  all,  I  want  you  to  tell  me 
exactly  hoM^  you  came  to  have  these  cheques, 
and  what  use  you  made  of  them  on  previous 
occasions  ? " 

So,  slightly  reassured  by  her  manner,  which 
was  composed,  Peter  gave  her  a  plain,  un- 
varnished account  of  the  way  in  which  he  had 
been  led  to  deposit  his  extra  time,  and  the 
whole  story  of  his  interviews  with  Miss  Daven- 
port. He  did  not  mention  any  others,  because 
he  felt  that  the  affair  was  quite  complicated 
enough  without  dragging  in  extraneous  and 
irrelevant  matter. 

"  I  may  have  been  imprudent,"  he  con- 
cluded ;  "  but  I  do  assure  you,  Sophia,  that  in 
all  the  quarters  of  an  hour  I  have  had  as  yet. 


136         STourmalin  0  ®ime  Cl)cqttes. 

I  never  once  behaved  to  that  young  lady  in 
any  capacity  but  that  of  a  friend.  I  only  went 
on  drawing  the  cheques  because  I  wanted  a 
little  change  of  air  and  scene  now  and  then. 
You  have  no  idea  how  it  picked  me  up ! " 

"  I  saw  in  what  society  it  set  you  down, 
Peter,"  was  Sophia's  chilling  answer. 

"  You — you  musn't  think  she  is  always 
like  that,"  he  urged.  "  It  took  me  quite  by 
surjjrise — it  was  a  most  painful  position  for 
me.  I  think,  Sophia,  your  own  sense  of  fair- 
ness will  acknowledge  that,  considering  the 
awkwardness  of  my  situation,  I — I  behaved  as 
well  as  could  be  expected.  You  do  admit  that, 
don't  you  ? " 

Sophia  was  silent  for  a  minute  or  so  before 
she  spoke  again. 

"I  must  have  time  to  think,  Peter,"  she 
said :  "  it  is  all  so  strange,  so  contrary  to  all 
my  experience,  that  I  can  hardly  see  things  as 
yet  in  their  proper  light.  But  I  may  tell  you 
at  once  that,  from  what  I  was  able  to  observe, 
and  from  all  you  have  just  told  me,  I  am  in- 
clined to  think  that  you  are  free  from  actual 
culpability  in  the  matter.  It  was  quite  clear 
that  that  very  forward  girl  was  the  principal 


®l)e  €nlminating  (»ri)eqtie.  137 

throughout,  and  tliat  you  "were  nothing  more 
than  an  unwilhng  and  most  embarrassed  ac- 
cessory." 

This  was  so  much  more  lenient  a  view  than 
he  had  dared  to  expect  that  Peter  recovered 
his  ordinary  equanimity. 

"  That  was  all,"  he  said.  "  I  am  very  glad 
you  saw  it,  my  dear.  I  was  perfectly  help- 
less ! " 

"  And  then,"  said  Sophia,  "  I  was  more  than 
pleased  by  your  firm  refusal  to  commit  suicide. 
What  you  said  was  so  very  sound  and  true, 
Peter." 

"  I  hope  so,  said  Peter,  with  much  com- 
placency. "  Yes,  I  was  pretty  firm  with  her ! 
By  the  way,"  he  added,  "  you — you  didn't  hap- 
pen to  see  whether  she  really  did  jump  over- 
board, I  suppose  ? " 

"  I  came  away  just  at  the  crisis,"  she  said. 
"  I  thought  you  would  tell  me  !  " 

"/came  away,  too,"  said  Peter.  "  It  doesn't 
matter,  of  course;  but  still  I  should  have 
rather  liked  to  know  whether  she  meant  it 
or  not." 

"  How  can  you  speak  of  it  so  heartlessly, 
Peter  ?    She  may  have  been  trying  to  frighten 


138         tourmalin's  STiittc  Qri)eqnc0. 

yon ;  she  is  just  the  kind  of  girl  who  wonld. 
But  she  may  have  been  in  earnest  after  all !  " 

"  You  see,  Sophia,"  said  Peter,  "  it  doesn't 
matter  whether  she  was  or  not — it  isn't  as  if 
it  had  ever  really  happened." 

"Not  really  happened  ?  But  I  was  there; 
I  heard,  I  saw  it — nothing  could  be  more 
real !  " 

"  At  any  rate,"  he  said,  "  it  only  happens 
when  I  use  those  cheques  ;  and  she  can't  pos- 
sibly carry  out  her  rash  intention  until  I 
draw  another — which  I  promise  you  faithfully 
I  will  never  do.  If  you  doubt  me,  I  will 
burn  the  book  now  before  your  eyes ! " 

With  these  words  he  went  to  the  drawer  and 
took  out  the  cheque-book. 

"  IS"©,"  said  Sophia,  "  you  must  not  do  that, 
Peter.  There  is  much  about  this  Time  Bank 
that  I  don't  pretend  to  understand,  that  I  can 
not  account  for  by  any  known  natural  law ; 
but  I  may  not  disbelieve  my  own  eyes  and 
ears !  These  events  that  have  happened  in 
the  extra  time  you  chose  to  defer  till  now  are 
just  as  real  as  any  other  events.  You  have 
made  this  girl's  acquaintance  ;  you  have — I 
don't  say  through  any  fault  of  your  own,  but 


a:i)e  QlulmimUing  (!ri)cqne.  139 

still  you  lian^e — caused  her  to  transfer  her 
affections  from  the  man  she  was  engaged  to, 
and,  being  a  creature  of  ill-regulated  mind  and 
no  strength  of  character,  she  has  resolved  to 
put  an  end  to  her  life  rather  than  meet  his 
just  indignation.  She  is  now  on  the  very 
point  of  accomplishing  this  folly.  Well,  badly 
as  she  has  behaved,  you  can  not  possibly  leave 
the  wretched  girl  there !  You  must  go  back 
at  once,  restrain  her  by  main  force,  and  not 
leave  her  until  you  have  argued  her  into  a 
rational  frame  of  mind." 

Peter  was  by  no  means  anxious  to  go  back 
at  first. 

"  It's  not  at  all  necessary,"  he  said  ;  "  and 
besides,  I  don't  know  if  you're  aware  of  it, 
but  with  the  way  these  cheques  are  worked, 
it's  ten  chances  to  one  against  my  hitting  off 
the  right  fifteen  minutes !  Still,"  he  added, 
with  an  afterthought,  "  I  can  try^  of  course,  if 
you  insist  upon  it.  I  can  take  my  chance 
wath  another  fifteen  minutes,  but  that  must  be 
the  last.  I  am  sick  and  tired  of  this  Boom- 
erang business,  I  am  indeed  !  " 

Shameful  as  it  is  to  state,  he  had  altered 
his  mind  from  a  sudden  recollection  that  he 


140         ©ourmalin's  ®ime  (JIl)ci]ucs. 

would  not  mind  seeing  Miss  Tyrrell  for  just 
once  more.  He  had  not  drawn  her  for  several 
weeks. 

"  J^o,"  said  Sophia,  thoughtfully ;  "  I  see 
your  objection — fifteen  minutes  is  not  enough, 
unless  you  could  be  sure  of  getting  the  suc- 
cessors to  the  last.  But  I  have  an  idea,  Peter 
— if  you  draw  out  the  whole  balance  of  your 
time,  you  can't  possibly  help  getting  the  right 
fifteen  minutes  somewhere  or  other.  I  think 
that's  logical  ? " 

"  Oh,  devilish  logical !  "  muttered  Peter  to 
himself,  who  had  reasons,  which  he  could  not 
divulge  to  her,  for  strongly  disapproving  of 
such  a  plan. 

"  The  fact  is,  my  dear,"  he  said,  "  it — it's 
rather  late  this  evening  to  go  away  for  any 
time ! " 

"  You  forget,"  she  said,  "  that,  however 
long  you  are  away,  you  will  come  back  at 
exactly  the  same  time  you  start.  But  you 
have  some  other  reason,  Peter — you  had  better 
tell  me !  " 

"  Well,"  he  owned,  "  I  might  come  across 
some  one  I'd  rather  not  meet." 

"  You  are   thinking   of  the  man   that  girl 


8ri)«  Culminating  OTlicque.  141 

said  she  had  been  engaged  to — Alfred,  wasn't 
it?" 

Peter  had  forgotten  Alfred  for  the  moment ; 
and  besides,  he  was  not  likely  to  turn  up  till 
the  Boomerang  got  to  Plymouth,  and  he  knew 
his  extra  hours  stopped  before  that.  Still, 
Alfred  did  very  well  as  an  excuse. 

"  Ah  ! "  he  said,  "  Alfred.  You  lieard  what 
she  said  about  hini  ?  A  violent  character — 
with  a  revolver,  Sophia ! " 

"  But  you  told  her  you  were  not  afraid  of 
him.  I  felt  so  proud  of  you  when  you  said 
it.  And  think,  you  may  be  able  to  bring 
them  together — to  heal  the  breach  between 
them ! " 

"  He's  more  likely  to  make  a  breach  in  me 
that  won't  heal !  "  said  Peter. 

"  Still,  as  you  said  yourself,  it  isn't  as  if  it 
was  all  actually  existing.  Wliat  does  it  matter, 
even  if  he  should  shoot  you  ? " 

"  I  don't  see  any  advantage  in  exposing  my- 
self to  any  such  unpleasant  experiences,  even 
if  they  are  only  temporary,"  he  said. 

"  It  is  not  a  question  of  advantage,  Peter," 
rejoined  Sophia  ;  "  it  is  a  simple  duty,  and  I'm 
surprised  that  you  don't  see  it  as  such.    What- 


142         Sonrmalin's  Sinte  €l)cqties. 

ever  the  consequences  of  your  conduct  may 
be,  you  can  not  evade  them  like  this ;  you 
have  chosen  to  begin,  and  you  must  go  on ! 
I  am  quite  clear  about  that.  Let  me  see  " — 
(here  she  took  the  cheque-book,  and  made 
some  rapid  calculations  from  the  counterfoils) 
— "  yes,  you  have  two  hours  and  three-quarters 
at  least  still  standing  to  your  credit ;  and  then 
there's  the  compound  interest.  I  will  tear  out 
all  these  small  cheques  and  burn  them."  "Which 
she  did  as  she  spoke.  "  And  now,  Peter,  sit 
down  and  fill  up  one  of  the  blank  ones  at  the 
end  for  the  whole  amount." 

"  Do  you  know,  Sophia,"  said  Peter,  "  it 
occurs  to  me  that  this  is  just  one  of  those 
matters  which  can  only  be  satisfactorily  ar- 
ranged by — er — a  woman's  tact.  Suppose  I 
make  the  cheque  payable  to  you  now — eh  ? " 

"  You  mean,  that  you  want  me  to  go  instead 
of  you  ? "  she  asked. 

"Well,"  said  Peter,  "if  it  wouldn't  be 
bothering  you,  my  dear,  I  think  perhaps  it 
would  be — " 

"  Don't  say  another  word,"  she  interrupted, 
"  or  I  shall  begin  to  despise  you,  Peter  !  If  I 
thought  you  meant  it  seriously,  I  would  go  up- 


®l)e  Culminating  C^l^equc.  143 

stairs,  put  on  my  bonnet,  and  go  back  to  mam- 
ma forever.  I  could  not  bear  to  be  the  wife 
of  a  coward !  " 

"  Oh,  I'll  go  !  "  said  Peter,  in  much  alarm. 
"  I  said  what  I  did  out  of  consideration,  not 
cowardice.  But  wouldn't  to-morrow  do  just 
as  well,  Sophia  ?     It  is  late  to  turn  out !  " 

"  To-morrow  will  not  do  as  well,"  she  said  : 
"  fill  up  that  cheque  to-night  or  you  will  lose 
me  forever !  " 

"  There  !  "  said  Peter,  as  he  scrawled  off  the 
cheque.     "  Are  you  satisfied  noxo^  Sophia  ?  " 

"  I  shall  be  when  I  see  you  present  it." 

"  Er — yes,"  he  said  ;  "  oh  !  I  mean  to  pre- 
sent it — presently.  I — I  think  I'll  take  a  small 
glass  of  brandy  before  1  go,  my  dear,  to  keep 
the  cold  out." 

-  "  As  you  will  certainly  be  in  a  summer,  if 
not  tropical,  temperature  the  next  moment," 
she  said,  "  I  should  advise  you  to  take  nothing 
of  the  kind." 

"  I  say,"  he  suggested,  "  suppose  I  find  she 
has  jumped  overboard — what  shall  I  do  then  ?  " 

"  Do  !  Can  you  possibly  ask  ?  You  will 
jump  after  her,  of  course  !  " 

"  It's  easy   to   say  '  of  course,'  "   he  said  ; 


144         STourmalin'a  2[itne  CCl)erjues. 

"  but  I  never  could  swim  more  than  twenty 
strokes !  " 

"  Swim  those  twenty  then,  and  let  come 
what  will ;  you  will  be  back  all  the  sooner. 
But  don't  stand  there  talking  about  it,  Peter — 
go!" 

"  I'm  going,"  he  said  meekly.  "  You'll  sit 
np  for  me,  Sophia,  if — if  I'm  late,  won't 
you  ? " 

"  Don't  be  absurd  ! "  she  said.  "  You  know 
perfectly  well  that,  as  I  said  before,  you  won't 
be  away  a  second." 

"  It  won't  be  a  second  for  you,"  he  said, 
"  but  it  will  be  several  hours  for  me ;  and 
goodness  only  knows  what  I  may  have  to  go 
through  in  the  time  !  However,"  he  added, 
^vlth  an  attempt  to  be  cheerful,  "  it  may  all 
pass  off  quite  pleasantly — don't  you  think  it 
may,  Sophia  ? " 

"  How  can  I  tell  ?  You  will  only  find  out 
by  going." 

"  I'm  going,  my  dear — I'm  going  at  once  ! 
.  .  .  You'll  give  me  just  one  kiss  before  I 
start,  won't  you  ?  " 

"  I  will  give  you  no  kiss  till  you  come  back 
and  I  hear  what  you  have  done,"  said  Sophia. 


®!)e  Cttlminnting  (Ulicque.  145 

"  Very  well,"  he  retorted ;  "  you  may  be 
sorry  you  refused  when  it's  too  late  !  I  may 
never  come  back  at  all,  for  anything  I  can 
tell !  " 

And,  little  as  he  knew  it,  he  spoke  with  an 
almost  prophetic  anticipation  of  what  was  to 
come.  Never  again  was  he  destined  to  stand 
on  that  hearth-rug ! 

But  he  dared  not  linger  longer,  as  he  could 
see  from  her  expression  that  she  would  suffer 
no  further  trilling ;  and  he  slipped  his  last 
cheque  under  the  clock, — with  consequences 
that  must  be  reserved  for  the  next  chapter. 


10 


CHAPTER  YIIL 

PAID   IN    HIS    OWN    COIN. 

In  Sus])ense :  a  Oleam  of  Comfort. — Darkness  Returns, 
— The  Rock  Ahead. — Sir  William  Lends  His  Binocu- 
lar.— Reappearance  of  an  Old  Enemy, — A  New  Ban- 
ger.— Out  of  the  Frying-pan. 

Peter  found  himself  below  this  time,  in  the 
broad  passage,  furnislied  with  seats  and  tables 
for  writing,  and  which  divided  the  passengers' 
cabins.  Above,  he  heard  a  confused  stir  and 
bustle  of  excitement,  the  trampHng  of  feet,  the 
creaking  and  rattle  of  chains,  orders  shouted 
in  English  and  Hindustani.  From  the  absence 
of  all  vibration,  in  the  vessel,  it  was  evident 
that  she  had  been  brought  to.      Why  f 

Peter  guessed  the  cause  only  too  easily :  the 
unhappy  Miss  Davenport  had  indeed  suc- 
ceeded in  carrying  out  her  rash  design.     She 


Poib  in  l)is  ovm  Coin.  147 

had  jumped  overboard,  and  the  captain  had 
stopped  the  engines  and  lowered  a  boat  in  the 
hope  of  picking  her  up  before  she  sank !  And 
he  himself — why  was  he  skulking  below  like 
this  ?  He  had  only  too  much  reason  to  fear 
that  he  must  have  been  a  witness  of  the  fatal 
leap ;  and,  instead  of  plunging  overboard  to  the 
rescue  as  a  hero  ought,  had  rushed  down  here 
ignomiuiously. 

Had  he  been  observed?  Was  his  connec- 
tion with  the  tragedy  suspected?  Could  he 
venture  up  on  deck  and  inform  himself  ?  He 
tried,  but  his  nerve  failed  him,  and  he  sank 
into  one  of  the  chairs  in  a  state  of  almost  un- 
bearable suspense. 

Just  at  this  moment,  he  saw  the  skirts  of  a 
muslin  gown  appear  at  the  head  of  the  broad 
companion  which  led  to  the  dining-saloon. 
Some  one,  a  girl  evident!}',  was  descending. 
Presently,  he  saw  her  fully  revealed— it  was 
Miss  Tyrrell. 

Perhaps  he  had  never  been  so  glad  to  see 
her  before.  She  was  a  friend,  a  dear  friend 
She,  at  least,  would  sympathize  with  him, 
would  understand  that  it  was  not  his  fault  if 
he  had  been  too  late  to  avert  a  catastrophe. 


148         Sonrmalin's  SCime  (fHieques. 

She  was  coming  to  him.  Her  eyes  were  friend- 
ly and  pitiful  as  they  sought  his.  She,  at 
least,  did  not  turn  from  him ! 

"  How  pale,  how  terribly  pale  you  look  !  " 
she  said.  "  You  must  nerve  yourself  to  see 
her — it  can  not  be  long  now !  " 

"  Has  she  been  brought  on  board  yet  ? "  he 
gasped.     "  Is — is  there  any  hope  ? " 

"  We  shall  know  very  soon.  It  is  possible 
you  may  find  that  all  is  at  an  end." 

"  Ah !  you  think  so  ?  But — but  no  one 
will  say  it  was  my  fault,  will  they  ?  I — I  was 
ready  to  make  any  sacrifice — only  somehow, 
when  the  moment  comes,  I  am  apt  to  lose  my 
presence  of  mind." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  she  said  feelingly ;  "  you 
are  not  quite  yourself  yet,  but  I  know  you 
would  make  the  sacrifice  if  your  duty  demand- 
ed it.  But  she  may  have  taken  advantage  of 
your  absence  to  free  herself  and  you  from  all 
obligation,  may  she  not  ?  " 

This  suggestion  comforted  Peter. 

"  She  must  have  done !  "  he  said.  "  Yes,  of 
course.  I  could  not  be  expected  to  prevent  it, 
if  I  wasn't  there  ;  and  I  wasn't,  when  it  came 
to  the  point.     But,  Miss  Tyrrell,  do  you  think 


Paib  in  l)is  oron  €oin.  149 

that  it  is  really  all  over  ?  She — she  may  come 
round  after  all !  " 

"  She  may — but  of  course,  if  it  is  true  that 
she  is  engaged  to  another,  she  can  have  no 
possible  claim  on  yoit^'' 

What  a  sensible  right-minded  way  this  gii'l 
had  of  looking  at  things !  thought  Peter,  not 
for  the  first  time. 

"  Wh}^,  of  course  she  can't ! "  he  cried, 
"  And  it  is  true.  She  is  engaged — to  a  fellow 
of  the  name  of  Alfred." 

"  You  know  that  as  a  fact  ? "  she  exclaimed. 

"  I  know  it  from  her  own  lips,  and  I  need 
not  say  that  I  should  be  the  last  person  to  wish 
to — er — upset  so  desirable  an  arrangement." 

"  Why — why  didn't  you  tell  me  all  this  be- 
fore ? "  she  inquired. 

"  I — I  didn't  think  it  would  interest  you," 
he  replied. 

Here,  to  Peter's  utter  astonishment,  she 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  Not  interest  me ! "  she  murmured  at  last. 
"  Oh,  how  could  you — how  could  you  keep 
this  from  me  ?  Can't  you  see — can't  you 
guess  what  a  difference  it  has  made  in  my  feel- 
ings ? " 


150         QTotirmalin's  STitnc  (El)cqnes. 

It  might  be  very  dull  of  him,  but  he  could 
not  perceive  why  the  fact  of  Miss  Davenport's 
engagement  to  Alfred  should  affect  ]\Iiss  Tyr- 
rell so  strangely  as  this ! 

"I  may  call  you  'Peter'  now,"  she  said. 
"  Oh,  Peter,  how  happy  you  have  made  me ! 
"Wliy  did  you  keep  silence  so  long  ?  It  was  too 
quixotic  !     Don't  you  understand  even  yet  ? " 

"No,"  said  Peter,  blankly,  "I'm  afraid  I 
don't." 

"  Then,  if  you  are  really  so  diffident,  I — I 
must  tell  you  that  if  you  were  to  ask  a  certain 
question  once  more,  I  might — I  don't  say  I 
should,  but  I  might — meet  it  with  a  different 
answer ! " 

"  Good  Heavens !  "  he  ejaculated,  involun- 
tarily. 

"  But  you  must  not  ask  me  yet — not  just  yet. 
I  must  have  time  to  consider.  I  must  tell  papa 
before  I  decide  anything.  You  will  wait  a 
little  longer,  won't  you,  Peter  ? " 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  feeling  limp,  "  I'll  wait.  I'd 
rather ! " 

She  smiled  radiantly  upon  him,  and  then  fled 
lightly  up  the  companion,  leaving  him  with 
fresh  cause  for  uneasiness.    He  could  no  longer 


Paib  in  l)is  own  (JToin.  151 

doubt  that,  for  some  reason,  she  expected  him 
to  propose  to  her,  which  it  seemed  he  had  al- 
ready, in  one  of  those  confounded  extra  min- 
utes, been  unprincipled  enough  to  do !  Now 
she  had  gone  to  inform  her  father,  the  judge, 
and  he  would  have  the  disagreeable  task  of 
disabusing  them  before  long  ! 

At  this  point  he  started,  believing  that  he 
was  visited  by  an  apparition ;  for  a  cabin-door 
opened,  and  Miss  Davenport  came  out  and 
stood  before  him. 

But  she  was  so  obviously  flesh  and  blood 
—  and  so  dry  —  that  he  soon  saw  that  all 
his  anxiety  on  her  account  had  been  super- 
fluous. 

"  Then  you — you  didn't  jump  overboard 
after  all  ? "  he  faltered,  divided  between  relief 
and  annoyance  at  having  been  made  to  come 
back,  as  it  were,  on  false  pretenses. 

"  You  know  who  prevented  me,  and  by  what 
arguments  !  "  she  said,  in  a  low  strained  voice. 

''Do  I  ? "  he  said,  helplessly. 

"  "Who  should,  if  you  do  not  ?  Did  not  you 
implore  me  not  to  leave  you,  and  declare  that, 
if  I  would  only  have  courage  and  wait,  we 
should  be  happy  even  yet  ?     And  I  did  wait. 


152         Sourmaiin'o  STime  QTIjeque©. 

For  what,  I  ask  you,  Peter  Tourmalin — for 
what  f  " 

"  It's  really  no  use  asking  me,"  he  said,  "  for 
I've  no  idea ! " 

"  I  waited — to  discover  that  all  this  time  you 
have  had  a  secret  understanding  with  another ; 
that  you  are  about  to  transfer  your  tickle  affec- 
tions to — to  that  fair  girl !  Don't  deny  it, 
Peter !     I  was  listening.     I  see  it  all — all !  " 

"  I  wish  to  goodness  /  did ! "  he  said.  "  I 
never  was  in  such  a  muddle  as  this  in  my  life. 
I  can  only  assure  you  that  if  that  young  lady 
really  imagines  that  I  am,  or  can  be,  anything 
more  to  her  than  a  friend,  she  is  entirely  mis- 
taken. I  was  just  about  to  go  up  and  explain 
as  much  to  her  father ! " 

"  You  are  not  deceiving  me  ? "  she  asked, 
earnestly.     "  You  are  sure  f  " 

"  I  will  swear  it,  if  you  wish ! "  he  replied. 

"  No,"  she  said,  relenting  visibly,  "  your 
word  is  enough.  I  do  beheve  you,  and  I  am 
almost  happy  again.  So  long  as  you  do  not 
desert  me,  even  Alfred  loses  half  liis  terrors  !  " 

"  Exactly,"  he  said  ;  "  and  now,  if  yon  will 
excuse  me,  I'll  just  run  up  on  deck  and  settle 
this  other  business." 


Paib  in  l)is  otun  CToin.  153 

He  went  up  to  the  hurricane-deck,  and  found 
the  ship  had  anchored.  In  front  was  a  huge 
barren  rock,  with  Hues  of  forts,  walls,  and  tele- 
graph poles  ;  and  at  its  base  a  small  white  town 
huddled.  Thej  had  arrived  at  Gibraltar,  which 
accounted  for  the  absence  of  motion. 

As  he  stood  there,  taking  this  in,  he  was  ac- 
costed by  Sir  "William  Tyrrell,  who  thrust  his 
arm  through  Peter's  in  a  friendly  manner. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  the  judge,  heartily, 
"  Yiolet  has  just  told  me  the  good  news.  I  can 
only  say  that  I  am  delighted — most  delighted  ! 
I  have  always  felt  a  warm  interest  in  you,  ever 
since  that  affair  of — " 

"  Of  the  monkey,"  said  Peter.  "  I  am  very 
glad  to  hear  it.  Sir  William  ;  but — but  I  ought 
to  tell  you  that  I  am  afraid  Miss  Tyrrell  was 
— a  Httle  premature.  She  misinterpreted  a  re- 
mark of  mine,  which,  in  point  of  fact,  referred 
to  somebody  else  altogether." 

"  Then  you  have  no  more  reason  than  before 
for  assuming  that  jonr  JiajicSe  has  thrown  you 
over.     Am  I  to  understand  that  ? " 

"No  more  reason  than  before,"  admitted 
Peter. 

"  And  your  uncertainty  still  continues  ?  Very 


154         Sourmalin'a  ^imc  Clljcqtic©. 

unsatisfactory,  I  must  say !  I  do  think,  my  dear 
fellow,  that,  in  your  position,  you  should  have 
been  more  careful  to  refrain  from  betraying  any 
interest  in  Violet  until  you  knew  that  you  were 
free  to  speak.  As  it  is,  you  may  have  cast  a 
shadow  upon  her  young  life  that  it  may  take 
years  to  dispel !  " 

Peter's  heart  sank  into  his  boots  for  very 
shame  at  this  gentle  and  almost  paternal  re- 
proof. 

"  Yes,"  continued  the  worthy  judge,  "  Vio- 
let is  a  high-minded  girl,  scrupulously  sensitive 
on  points  of  honor ;  and,  unless  the  young  lady 
you  are  under  a  semi-engagement  to  should  re- 
lease you  of  her  own  free  will,  I  know  my  daugh- 
ter too  well  to  doubt  that  she  will  counsel  you 
to  fulfill  your  contract  and  renounce  all  hope 
so  far  as  she  is  concerned." 

Peter  felt  a  little  easier. 

"  I — I  am  prepared  to  do  that,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  I  don't  say  myself  that  I  go  quite  so 
far  as  she  does  ;  but  strictly,  no  doubt,  a  prom- 
ise is  a  promise,  and  should  be  kept  at  all  haz- 
ards. You  have  done  all  that  a  man  can  hon- 
orably do  to  put  himself  right.  You  have 
written  to  this  young  lady,  so  I  understand, 


|)aib  in  l)is  otnn  Coin.  155 

informing  her  of  the  change  in  yonr  senti- 
ments, and  offering,  nevertheless,  to  redeem 
your  promise  if  she  insisted  upon  it.  I  tliink 
that  was  the  general  purport  of  your  letter." 

Here  was  one  more  evil  fruit  of  his  extra 
time !  What  would  Sophia  think,  or  say,  or 
do,  if  such  a  letter  as  that  ever  came  to  her 
knowledge  ?  Fortunately,  that  at  least  was 
impossible ! 

"  You  have  some  grounds,"  the  judge  went 
on,  "for  assuming  that  the  lady  has  already 
treated  the  contract  as  non-existent — a  person 
called  Alfred,  I  think  my  daugliter  said  ? " 

"  No,  that  was  a  mistake,"  explained  Peter. 
"Alfred  is  engaged  to  quite  a  different  person." 

"  Well,  in  any  case,  it  is  quite  possible  that 
you  may  obtain  your  release  when  you  meet 
her ;  and  your  suspense  will  soon  be  over  now. 
Miss — er — Pincher,  is  it? — will  probably  be 
on  board  the  ship  before  many  minutes.  I 
see  the  boats  are  putting  out  from  the  harbor 
already." 

"  What  I  "  cried  Peter,  with  the  terrible  con- 
viction darting  through  his  mind  that  Sir  Will- 
iam spoke  the  bare  truth. 

Sophia  had  said  something   about  meeting 


156         ®ottrmaUn'0  ®imc  dTljeqttes. 

him  at  Gibraltar ;  but  if  she  had  done  so  dur- 
ing the  real  voyage,  how  could  he  have  the 
meeting  all  over  again,  with  this  ghastly  vari- 
ation? If  he  could  only  remember  whether 
she  had  come  out,  or  not !  It  was  singular, 
incomprehensible  !  But  his  memory  was  a 
blank  on  such  a  vital  fact  as  this ! 

"  Would  you  like  to  have  my  field-glass  for  a 
moment  ? "  said  Sir  "VYilliam,  considerately. 

Peter  took  them,  and  the  next  moment  the 
binocular  fell  from  his  nerveless  hands.  He 
had  seen  only  too  clearly  the  familiar  form  of 
Sophia  seated  in  the  peaked  stern  of  a  small 
craft  which  a  Spanish  boatman  was  "  scissoring  " 
through  the  waves  toward  the  Boomerang, 

"  Come,  courage ! "  said  the  Judge  kindly, 
as  he  picked  up  his  glass  and  wiped  the  lenses. 
"  Don't  be  nervous,  my  boy.  You  don't  know 
what  she  may  have  to  say  to  you  yet,  you  know ! " 

"  No,  I  don't ! "  he  groaned.  "  I— I  think 
I  ought  to  go  down  to  the  gangway  and  meet 
her,"  he  added,  tremulously — not  that  he  had 
any  intention  of  doing  so,  but  he  wanted  to  be 
alone. 

Before  the  Judge  could  even  express  his 
approbation  of  Peter's  course.  Tourmalin  was 


|)oib  in  1)10  own  (Coin.  157 

down  on  the  saloon-deck  seeking  a  quiet  spot 
wherein  to  collect  his  thoughts. 

Before  he  could  find  the  quiet  spot,  how- 
ever, he  almost  ran  into  tlie  arms  of  the  ma- 
tron from  Melbourne,  whom  he  had  not  seen 
since  the  episode  of  the  music-room. 

"  A  word  with  you,  Mr.  Tourmalin ! "  she 
said. 

"  I — I  really  can't  stop  now,"  stammered 
Peter.     "  I — I'm  expecting  friends  !  " 

"  I,  too,"  she  said,  "  am  expecting  a  relation, 
and  it  is  for  that  reason  that  I  wish  to  speak 
to  you  now.  My  brother,  who  has  been  stay- 
ing at  Gibraltar  on  account  of  his  health,  will 
be  as  determined  as  I  am  to  trace  and  punish 
the  infamous  calumny  upon  the  name  and 
career  of  our  honored  parent." 

"  I  dare  say,  madam,"  said  Peter—"  I  dare 
say.  Yery  creditable  to  you  both — but  I  really 
can't  stop  just  now  !  " 

"  You  appear  to  forget,  sir,  that,  unless  you 
can  satisfactorily  establish  your  innocence,  my 
brother  will  certainly  treat  you  as  the  person 
primarily  responsible  for  an  atrocious  slan- 
der!" 

"  A  slander — upon  your  father  !  .  .  .  Me  f  " 


158         Sourmaiin's  STimc  €l)cqucs. 

said  the  indignant  Peter.  "  Why,  I  never 
heard  of  the  gentleman ! " 

"  Denial  will  not  serve  yon  now,"  she  said. 
"  I  have  not  only  your  own  admissions  in  the 
music-room,  but  the  evidence  of  more  than 
one  trustworthy  witness,  to  prove  that  you 
circulated  a  report  that  my  dear  father — one 
of  the  most  honored  and  respected  citizens  of 
Melbourne — began  his  Colonial  career  as — as 
a  transported  convict !  " 

After  all,  as  the  hapless  Peter  instantly  saw, 
he  might  have  said  so,  for  anything  he  knew, 
in  one  of  those  still  unexhausted  extra  quarters 
of  an  hour ! 

"  If  I  said  so,  I  was  misinformed,"  he 
said. 

"  Just  so ;  and  in  our  conversation  on  the 
subject,  you  mentioned  the  name  of  the  per- 
son who  used  you  as  his  mouthpiece  to  dis- 
seminate his  malicious  venom.  What  I  wish 
to  know  now  is,  whether  you  are  prepared  or 
not  to  repeat  that  statement  ?  " 

Peter  recollected  now  that  he  had  used  ex- 
pressions implicating  Mr.  Perkins  although 
merely  as  the  origin  of  totally  different  com- 
plications. 


|Joib  in  \)\s  omn  QToin.  159 

"  I  can't  positively  go  so  far  as  tliat,"  he 
said.     "  I — I  made  the  statement  generally." 

"  As  you  please,"  she  said.  "  I  can  merely 
say  that  my  brother,  whom  I  expect  moment- 
arily, is,  although  an  invalid  in  some  respects, 
a  powerful  and  determined  man ;  and  unless 
you  repeat  in  his  presence  the  sole  excuse  you 
have  to  offer,  he  will  certainly  horsewhip  you 
in  the  presence  of  the  other  passengers.  That 
is  all,  sir  !  " 

"  Thank  you — it's  quite  enough  ! "  mur- 
mured Peter,  thinking  that  Alfred  himself 
could  hardly  be  much  more  formidable ;  and 
he  slipped  down  the  companion  to  the  cabin- 
saloon,  where  he  found  Miss  Davenport  anx- 
iously expecting  him. 

"  He  is  here,"  she  whispered.  "  I  have  just 
seen  him  through  the  port-hole." 

"  What — the  old  lady's  brother ! "  he  replied. 

"  He  has  no  sister  who  is  an  old  lady.  I 
mean  Alfred." 

'' Alfred  f"  he  almost  yelped.  "Alfred 
here  /  " 

"  Of  course  he  is  here.  Is  not  his  battalion 
stationed  at  Gibraltar  ?  You  knew  it,  we  were 
to  meet  him  here !  " 


160         ®0ttrmalin's  STime  €l)eqncs. 

"  I  didn't,  indeed — or  I  sliould  never  liave 
come  !  "  lie  protested. 

"Don't  let  us  waste  words  now.  He  is 
here  ;  lie  will  demand  an  explanation  from 
jou.  lie  lias  liis  j)istol  with  him — I  could 
tell  by  the  bulge  under  his  coat.  We  must 
both  face  him ;  and  the  question  is,  What  are 
you  going  to  say  ?  " 

Peter  thrust  his  hands  through  his  carefully 
parted  hair : 

"  Say !  "  he  repeated.  "  I  shall  tell  him  the 
simple,  straightforward  truth.  I  shall  frankly 
admit  that  we  have  walked,  and  sat,  and  talked 
together ;  but  I  shall  assure  him,  as  I  can  hon- 
estly, that  during  the  whole  course  of  our  ac- 
quaintance I  have  never  once  regarded  you  in 
any  other  light  but  that  of  a  friend." 

"And  you  suppose  that,  knowing  how  I 
have  changed,  he  will  believe  that !  "  she  cried. 
"  He  will  fire  long  before  you  can  finish  one  of 
those  fine  sentences !  " 

"  In  that  case,"  suggested  Peter,  "  why  tell 
him  anything  at  all  ?  Why  not  spare  him, 
poor  fellow,  at  all  events  for  the  time  ?  It 
will  only  upset  him  just  now.  Let  him  sup- 
pose that  we  are  strangers  to  one  another ;  and 


Paib  in  his  oton  (Eoin.  161 

you  can  break  the  truth  to  him  gently  \vlien 
you  reach  England,  you  know.  I'm  sure  that's 
much  the  more  sensible  plan  ! " 

She  broke  into  strange  mirthless  laughter. 

"  Your  prudence  comes  too  late,"  she  said. 
"  You  forget  that  the  truth  was  broken  to  him 
some  days  ago,  in  the  letter  I  wrote  from  Brin- 
disi." 

"  You  wrote  and  broke  it  to  him  at  Brin- 
disi !  "  cried  Peter.     "  What  induced  you  to  do 

"  Why,  you  !  "  she  retorted.  "  You  insisted 
that  it  was  due  to  him ;  and  though  I  knew 
better  than  you  what  the  effect  would  be,  I 
dared  not  tell  you  the  whole  truth.  I  wanted 
to  end  the  engagement,  too ;  and  I  scarcely 
cared  then  what  consequences  might  follow. 
Now  they  are  upon  us,  and  it  is  useless  to  try 
to  escape  them.  Since  we  must  die,  let  us  go 
up  on  deck  and  get  it  over  ! " 

"  One  moment,"  he  said  ;  "  Alfred  can  wait 
a  little.  I — I  must  go  to  my  cabin  first,  and 
put  on  a  clean  collar." 

And  ■\;\'ith  this  rather  flimsy  pretext,  he 
again  made  his  escape.  He  made  up  his  mind 
what  to  do  as  he  rushed  toward  his  cabin.  He 
11 


163         Sottrmalin's  QLimc  (!Li)cqms. 

could  hardly  have  been  anything  like  an  hour 
on  board  the  Boomerang  as  yet ;  he  had  to  get 
through  at  least  another  three  before  he  could 
hope  for  deliverance.  His  only  chance  was  to 
barricade  himself  inside  his  cabin,  and  stead- 
fastly refuse  to  come  out,  upon  any  considera- 
tion whatever,  until  he  was  released  by  the 
natural  expiration  of  time. 

He  sped  down  the  passage,  and  found,  to  his 
horror,  that  he  had  forgotten  the  number  of 
his  berth.  However,  he  knew  where  it  ought 
to  be,  and  darted  into  an  open  door,  which  he 
fastened  securely  with  hook  and  bolt,  and 
sank  breathless  on  one  of  the  lower  berths. 

"  You  seem  in  a  hurry,  my  friend  !  "  said  a 
voice  opposite;  and  Peter's  eyes,  unused  at 
first  to  the  comparative  dinmess,  perceived 
that  a  big  man  was  sitting  on  the  opposite 
berth,  engaged  in  putting  on  a  pair  of  spiked 
cricket-shoes.  He  had  bolted  himself  inside 
the  cabin  with  Mr.  Perkins  ! 


CHAPTER  IX. 


COMPOUND   INTEREST. 


Bach  to  the  Fire  Again. — A  Magnanimous  Return. — 
Catching  at  Straws. — Tivo  Total  Strangers. — Purely 
a  Question  of  Precedence. — "  Hemmed  in  "  and  "  Sur- 
rounded."— T/ie  Last  Chance. 

% 
The  Bank  Manager  looked  across  at  Peter 
with  an  amused  smile ;  he  seemed  quite  friend- 
ly. Whether  he  was  in  Peter's  cabin,  or  Peter 
in  his,  did  not  appear ;  and  perhaps  it  was 
not  of  much  consequence  either  way.  If  the 
cabin  belonged  to  Mr,  Perkins,  he  did  not,  at 
all  events,  appear  to  resent  the  intrusion. 

"  You  seem  rather  put  out  about  something," 
he  said  again,  as  Peter  was  still  too  short  of 
breath  for  words. 

"  Oh,  no,"  panted  Peter,  "  it's  nothing. 
There  was  so  much  bustle  going  on  above  that 
I  thought  I'd  come  in  here  for  a  little  quiet ; 
that's  all." 


164         dourmalin'a  ®;ime  (JTtjeqtxcs. 

"  Well,"  said  the  manager,  "  I'm  glad  you 
looked  in  ;  for,  as  it  happens,  you're  the  very 
man  I  wanted  to  see.  I  dare  say  you're  won- 
dering why  I'm  putting  on  these  things  ? " 

Peter  nodded  his  head,  which  was  all  he  felt 
equal  to. 

"  Why,  I've  just  been  having  a  talk  with 
that  old  she-griffin  from  Melbourne.  Perhaps 
you  don't  know  that  her  brother  is  coming  on 
board  directly  ? " 

"  O  yes,  I  do  f  "  said  Peter. 

"  Well,  it  seems  she  means  to  denounce  me 
to  him  as  the  slanderer  of  her  father.  She 
may,  if  she  chooses ;  my  conscience  is  perfectly 
clear  on  that  score.  No  one  can  bring  any- 
thing of  the  sort  home  to  me;  and  I've  no 
doubt  I  shall  soon  satisfy  him  that  I'm  as  inno- 
cent as  an  unborn  babe.  Still,  I  want  you,  as 
a  respectable  man  and  the  only  real  friend  I 
have  on  board,  to  come  with  me  and  be  my 
witness  that  you  never  heard  such  a  rumor 
from  my  lips ;  and  besides,  sir,  we  shall  have 
an  opportunity  at  last  of  seeing  the  unutterable 
scamp  who  has  had  the  barefaced  impudence 
to  say  I  told  him  this  precious  story !  She's 
going  to  produce  him,  sir ;  and  if  he  dares  to 


Componnb  Jfnterest.  165 

stand  me  out  to  my  face — well,  A<g'll  know  why 
I've  put  on  these  shoes !  Come  along ;  I  can't 
let  you  olf." 

Peter  dared  not  refuse,  for  fear  of  attracting 
his  friend's  suspicions.  He  could  only  trust 
to  slipping  away  in  the  confusion ;  and  so,  un- 
fastening the  cabin-door,  the  manager  caught 
the  unresisting  Tourmalin  tightly  by  the  arm, 
and  hurried  him  along  the  central  passage  and 
up  the  companion. 

Even  Miss  Davenport  would  have  been  a 
welcome  diversion  at  that  moment;  but  she 
was  not  there  to  intercept  him,  and  he  reached 
the  upper  deck  more  dead  than  alive. 

"  "Where's  that  old  vixen  now  ?  "  exclaimed 
the  Manager,  dropping  Peter's  arm.  "  Here, 
just  stay  where  you  are  a  minute,  till  I  find  her 
and  her  confounded  brother  !  " 

He  bustled  ofl",  leaving  Tourmalin  by  the 
davits,  quite  incapable  of  action  of  any  kind  in 
the  presence  of  this  new  and  awful  dilemma. 
He  had  been  spreading  a  cruel  and  unjustifia- 
ble slander  against  an  irreproachable  colonial 
magnate,  whose  son  was  now  at  hand  to  de- 
mand reparation  with  a  horsewhip.  He  could 
only  propitiate  him  by  denouncing  Perkins  as 


166         (Jonrmalin's  STime  Cliques. 

his  informant,  and  if  he  did  that  he  would  be 
kicked  from  one  end  of  the  ship  to  the  other 
with  a  spiked  boot !  This  was  IS^emesis  indeed, 
and  it  was  Sophia  who  had  insisted  upon  his 
exposing  himself  to  it.  "What  a  fool  he  was 
not  to  fly  back  to  that  cabin  while  he  could  ! 

He  turned  to  flee,  and  as  he  did  so  a  hand 
was  passed  softly  through  his  arm. 

"  Not  that  way,  Peter ! "  said  Miss  Tyrrell's 
voice. 

A  wild,  faint  hope  came  to  him  that  he 
might  be  going  to  receive  one  of  the  back 
quarters  of  an  hour.  The  caprices  of  the  Time 
Cheques  were  such  that  it  was  quite  possible 
he  would  be  thrown  back  into  an  earlier  inter- 
view. Little  as  he  felt  inclined  for  any  social 
intercourse  just  then,  he  felt  that  it  would 
afford  him  a  brief  interlude — would  at  least 
give  him  breathing-time  before  his  troubles 
beo^an  ao-ain. 

"  I  will  go  wherever  you  choose,"  he  said ; 
"  I  am  in  your  hands," 

"I  came,"  she  said,  "to  take  you  to  her. 
She  is  asking  for  you." 

"  She  % "  said  Peter.  "  For  heaven's  sake, 
who  % " 


QTotnpoitnb  interest.  167 

"  Why,  Miss  Pineeney,  of  course.  I  knew 
who  it  was  directly  I  saw  her  face.  Peter,  is 
it  true,  as  papa  tells  me,  that  I  misunderstood 
you  just  now — that  she  is  not  engaged  to  Al- 
fred?" 

"  AKred  ?  ISTo !  "  he  replied.  "  If  she  is  en- 
gaged to  any  one  at  all,  I  have  strong  grounds 
for  supposing  it's  to  me  !  " 

"  Then  we  must  submit,  that  is  all,"  said 
Miss  Tyrrell.  "  But  we  do  not  know  her  de- 
cision yet ;  there  is  still  hope ! " 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  "  there  is  hope  still.  Let  us 
go  to  her  ;  make  haste  !  " 

He  meant  what  he  said.  Sophia  could  at 
least  extricate  him  from  a  portion  of  his  diffi- 
culties. Miss  Tyrrell — magnanimous  and  un- 
selfish girl  that  she  was,  in  spite  of  her  talent 
for  misapprehension — was  ready  to  resign  him 
to  a  prior  claim,  if  one  was  made.  And 
Sophia  was  bound  to  claim  him ;  for  if  the  en- 
gagement between  them  had  been  broken  off, 
he  could  not  now  be  her  husband,  as  he  was. 
Even  Time  Cheques  must  recognize  accom- 
plished facts. 

He  followed  her  across  the  ship,  turning 
down  the  very  passage  in  which  he  had  sat 


168         ®0nrmalin's  STitnc  Qlljeques. 

through  more  than  one  cheque  with  Miss 
Davenport ;  and  on  the  opposite  side  he  found 
Sophia  standing,  with  her  usual  composure, 
waiting  for  his  arrival. 

She  was  so  identically  the  same  Sophia  that 
he  had  left  so  lately,  that  he  felt  reassured. 
She,  at  least,  could  not  be  the  dupe  of  all  this. 
She  had  come — how,  he  did  not  trouble  him- 
self to  think, — but  she  had  come  with  the 
benevolent  intention  of  savino;  him  ! 

"  How  do  you  do,  my  love  ? "  he  began.  "  I 
— I  thought  I  should  see  you  here." 

"  You  only  see  me  here,  Peter,"  she  replied, 
in  a  voice  that  trembled  slightly,  in  spite  of 
her  efforts  to  command  it,  "  because  I  felt 
very  strongly  that  it  was  my  duty  to  put  an  end 
at  the  earliest  moment  to  a  situation  which  has 
become  impossible ! " 

"  I'm  sure,"  said  Peter,  "  it  is  quite  time  it 
was  put  an  end  to — it  couldn't  go  on  like  this 
much  longer." 

"  It  shall  not,  if  I  can  help  it,"  she  said. 
"  Miss  Tyrrell,  pray  don't  go  away ;  what  I 
have  to  say  concerns  you  too." 

"No;  don't  go  away,  Miss  Tyrrell,"  added 
Peter,  who  felt  the  most  perfect  confidence  in 


Compotinb  Interest.  169 

Sophia's  superior  wisdom,  and  was  now  per- 
suaded that  somehow  it  was  all  going  to  be  ex- 
plained. "  Sir  William,  will  you  kindly  step  this 
way  too  ?  Sir  William  Tyrrell — Miss  Pinceney. 
Miss  Pinceney  has  something  to  tell  you  which 
will  make  my  position  thoroughly  clear." 

"  I  have  only  to  say,"  she  said,  "  that  your 
honorable  and  straightforward  conduct,  Peter, 
has  touched  me  to  the  very  heart.  I  feel  that 
I  am  the  only  person  to  blame,  for  it  was  I 
who  insisted  upon  you  subjecting  yourself  to 
this  test." 

"  It  was,"  said  Peter.  "  I  told  you  some- 
thing would  haj)pen — and  it  has  !  " 

"  I  would  never  hold  you  to  a  union  from 
which  all  love  on  your  side  had  fled  ;  do  not 
think  so,  Peter.  And  now  that  I  see  my — my 
rival,  I  confess  that  I  could  expect  no  other 
result.  So,  dear  Miss  Tyrrell,  I  resign  him 
to  you  freely — yes,  cheerfully — for,  by  your 
womanly  self-abnegation  you  have  proved 
yourself  the  worthier.  Take  her,  Peter ;  you 
have  my  full  consent !  " 

"  My  dear  young  lady,"  said  the  Judge, 
deeply  affected,  "  this  is  most  noble  of  you ! 
Allow  me  to  shake  you  by  the  hand." 


170         Sotirmalin's  ®;itne  (t\)e(\ne8. 

"  I  can't  thank  yon,  dear,  dear,  Miss  Pin- 
ceney !  "  sobbed  his  daughter.  "  Peter,  tell 
her  for  me  how  we  shall  both  bless  and  love 
her  all  our  lives  for  this  !  " 

Peter's  brain  reeled.  Was  this  Sophia's 
notion  of  getting  him  out  of  a  difficulty  ? 

As  he  gazed  distractedly  around,  his  eyes 
became  fixed  and  glazed  with  a  new  terror.  A 
stalwart  stranger,  with  a  bushy  red  beard,  was 
coming  toward  him,  with  a  stout  riding-whip 
in  his  right  hand.  By  his  side  walked  the 
Manager,  from  whose  face  all  vestige  of  friend- 
liness had  vanished. 

"As  soon  as  you  have  quite  finished  your 
conversation  with  these  ladies,"  said  the  Man- 
ager, with  iron  politeness,  "  this  gentleman 
would  be  glad  of  a  few  moments  with  you  ; 
after  which  I  shall  request  your  attention  to  a 
little  personal  affair  of  my  own.-  Don't  let  us 
hur^'y  you,  you  know  !  " 

"  I — I  won't,"  returned  Peter,  flurriedly ; 
"  but  I'm  rather  busy  just  now :  a  little  later, 
I— I  shall  be  delighted." 

As  he  stood  there,  he  was  aware  that  they 
had  withdrawn  to  a  bench  some  distance  away, 
where   they  conferred  with   the  elderly  lady 


Compound  Interest.  171 

from  Melbourne.  He  could  feel  their  an- 
gry glare  upon  him,  and  it  contributed  to 
rob  him  of  the  little  self-possession  he  had 
left. 

"  Sophia,"  he  faltered  piteously,  "  I  say  this 
is  too  bad — it  is,  really !  You  canH  mean  to 
leave  me  in  such  a  hole  as  this — do  let's  get 
home  at  once !  " 

Before  she  could  make  any  reply  to  an  ap- 
peal which  seemed  to  astonish  her  considerably, 
a  thin,  bilious-looking  man,  with  a  face  twitch- 
ing with  nervous  excitement,  a  heavy  black 
mustache,  and  haggard  eyes,  in  which  a  red 
fire  smoldered,  appeared  at  the  gangway  and 
joined  the  group. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  lifting  his 
hat ;  "  forgive  me  if  I  interrupt  you,  but  my 
business  is  urgent — most  urgent !  Perhaps 
you  could  kindly  inform  me  if  there  is  a — a 
gentleman "  (the  word  cost  him  a  manifest 
struggle  to  pronounce) — "  a  gentleman  on  board 
of  the  name  of  Tourmalin  ?  I  have  a  little 
matter  of  business  "  (here  his  right  hand  stole 
to  his  breast-pocket)  "  to  transact  with  him,"  he 
explained,  with  a  sinister  smile  that  caused 
Peter  to  give  suddenly  at  the  knees. 


172         (Jonrmalin's  QLimc  (!Il)eqncs. 

"  It's  that  infernal  Alfred ! "  he  thought. 
"  Now  I  am  done  for !  " 

"  Why,"  said  Miss  Tjrrell,  who  was  clinging 
affectionately  to  Peter's  arm,  "  this  is  Mr.  Tour- 
malin !  You  can  speak  to  him  now — here,  if 
you  choose.  We  have  no  secrets  from  one  an- 
other— have  we,  Peter  ? " 

"  I  have  lately  learned,"  said  the  gloomy 
man,  "  that  a  certain  Mr.  Tourmalin  has  stolen 
from  me  the  affection  of  one  who  was  all  heaven 
and  earth  to  me ! " 

"  Then  it  must  be  another  Mr.  Tourmalin," 
said  Miss  Tyrrell,  "  not  this  one ;  because — 
surely  you  do  not  need  to  be  told  that  you 
have  no  rivalry  to  fear  from  him  ? "  she  broke 
off,  with  a  blush  of  charming  embarrassment. 

Alfred's  scowl  distinctly  relaxed,  and  Peter 
felt  that,  after  all,  this  unfortunate  misunder- 
standing on  Miss  Tyrrell's  part  might  prove 
serviceable  to  him.  Since  Sophia,  for  reasons 
of  her  own,  refused  to  assist  him,  he  must  ac- 
cept any  other  help  that  offered  itself. 

"  The  best  proof  I  can  give  you  of  my  inno- 
cence," he  said,  "  is  to  mention  that  I  have  the 
honor  to  be  engaged  to  this  lady." 

He  heard  a  stifled  shriek  from  behind  him 


€ompotinb  Interest.  173 

as  he  made  this  assertion,  and  the  next  moment 
Miss  Davenport,  who  must  have  come  up  in 
time  to  catch  the  last  words,  had  burst  into  the 
center  of  the  group. 

"  It  is  not  true ! "  she  cried.  "  Alfred,  you 
must  not  believe  him !  " 

"  Not  true  f  "  exclaimed  Alfred,  Sophia,  Miss 
T^Trell,  and  Sir  William,  in  the  same  breath. 

"  No ! "  said  Miss  Davenport ;  "  at  least,  if 
he  has  really  engaged  himself,  it  is  within  the 
last  few  minutes,  and  with  the  chivalrous  in- 
tention of  shielding  one  !  Peter,  I  will  not  be 
shielded  by  such  means.  Our  love  is  too  pre- 
cious to  be  publicly  denied.  I  can  not  suffer 
it ;  I  will  acknowledge  it,  though  it  costs  me 
my  life !  You,"  she  added,  turning  to  Sophia 
— "  you  can  prove  that  I  speak  the  truth.  It 
was  to  you  that  I  confided,  that  day  we  met  on 
deck,  the  story  of  our  fatal  attachment." 

"  I  really  think  you  must  be  mistaken," 
said  Sophia  coldly.  "  If  you  confided  such  a 
story  to  anybody,  it  could  not  have  been  to 
me ;  for,  until  a  few  minutes  ago,  I  had  never 
set  foot  upon  this  ship." 

How  Sophia  could  stand  there  and,  remem- 
bering, as  she  must  do,  her  recent  appropri- 


174         ©ourmalin's  ®imc  (S.\)cqneQ. 

ation  of  the  Time  CheqiTe,  tell  such  a  down- 
right fib  as  this,  passed  Peter's  comprehension. 
But,  as  her  statement  was  in  his  favor  so  far 
as  it  went,  he  knew  better  than  to  contradict 
it. 

"  Whether  it  was  you  or  not,"  insisted  Miss 
Davenport,  "  it  is  he  and  no  one  else  who 
rendered  my  engagement  to  Alfred  utterly 
repugnant  to  me  !  Can  you  look  at  him  now, 
and  doubt  me  longer  ?  " 

"  So,  Peter,"  said  Sophia  severely,  "  you 
could  not  even  be  faithful  to  your  unfaithful- 
ness !  " 

Miss  Tyrrell  made  no  comment,  but  she 
dropped  his  arm  as  if  it  had  scorched  her 
fingers,  whereupon  Miss  Davenport  clung  to  it 
in  her  stead,  to  Peter's  infinite  dismay  and  con- 
fusion. 

"  He  is  faithful !  "  she  cried.  "  It  is  only 
a  mistaken  sense  of  honor  that  made  him  ap- 
parently false.  Yes,  Alfred,  what  I  wrote  to 
you,  and  the  postscript  he  added,  is  the  sim- 
ple truth.  We  can  not  command  our  own 
hearts.  Such  love  as  I  once  had  for  you  is 
dead — it  died  on  the  fatal  day  which  brought 
him  across  my  path.    We  met — we  love  ;  deal 


domponnb  Interest.  175 

with  us  as  you  will !  I  would  rather,  ever  so 
much  rather,  die  with  him  than  lose  him 
now !  " 

Alfred  was  already  beginning  to  fumble 
fiercely  in  his  breast-pocket.  Peter  felt  the 
time  had  arrived  for  plain  speaking  ;  he  could 
not  submit  to  be  butchered  under  a  ridiculous 
misapprehension  of  this  kind. 

"  Listen  to  me  !  "  he  said  eagerly,  "  before 
you  do  anything  rash,  or  you  may  bitterly  re- 
gret it  afterward.  I  do  assure  you  that  I  am 
the  victim — we  are  all  the  victims  of  a  series 
of  unfortunate  cheques — I  should  say,  mis- 
takes. It's  absurd  to  make  me  responsible  for 
the  irregular  proceedings  of  a  nonsensical 
Bank.  If  I  had  spent  my  time  as  I  ought  to 
have  done  at  the  time,  instead  of  putting  it 
out  on  deposit  I  should  never  have  dreamed 
of  employing  it  in  any  kind  of  philander- 
ing ! " 

"  That,"  said  Sophia,  "  is  undeniable  ;  but 
you  spent  it  as  you  ought  not  to  have  done !  " 

"  Such  a  speech  comes  ill  from  you,"  he 
said,  reproachfully,  "  after  having  expressly 
condoned  the  past ;  and,  however  I  may  have 
appeared  to  philander,  I  can  conscientiously 


176         ^ourmoUn'e  ®ime  dL^mnts. 

declare  that  my  sentiments  toward  both  of 
these  young  ladies — both,  you  understand — 
have  been  restricted  to  a  respectful  and — and 
merely  friendly  esteem,  .  .  .  Don't  shoot, 
Alfred !  .  .  .  I  thought  that  was  quite  under- 
stood on  all  sides.  Only  have  a  little  more 
patience,  Alfred,  and  I  will  undertake  to  con- 
vince even  you  that  I  could  not  for  a  moment 
have  contemplated  depriving  you  of  the  hand 
of  this  extremely  charming  and  attractive 
lady,  who  \vi\\  not  let  go  my  arm.  .  .  .  I — I 
am  a  married  man  1  " 

"  Married  !  "  shrieked  Miss  Davenport, 
cowering  back. 

"  Married  !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Tyrrell,  as  she 
hid  her  face  upon  her  father's  shoulder. 

"  Marled !  "  shouted  the  Judge.  "  By  heav- 
ens, sir,  you  shall  account  to  me  for  this  ! " 

"  Married  !  "  cried  Sophia..  "  Oh,  Peter,  I 
was  7iot  prepared  for  this  !    AVhen  ?   Where  ?  " 

''WTienf  Where  f'  he  echoed.  "You 
were  not  prepared  for  it  ?  Perhaps  you  will 
ask  me  next  who  my  wife  is  ! " 

"  I  shall  not  indeed,"  said  Sophia,  "  for  I 
have  no  longer  the  slightest  curiosity  on  such 
a  subject ! " 


Compounb  Interest.  177 

Peter  collapsed  upon  the  nearest  bench. 

"  Sophia  ? "  he  cried  hoarsely,  "  why  keep 
this  lip  any  longer?  Surely  it  is  gone  far 
enough — you  canH  pretend  you  don't  know ! " 

But  while  he  spoke  the  words,  he  saw  sud- 
denly that  his  attempt  to  force  her  hand  was 
hopeless  :  she  was  quite  sincere  in  her  surprise  ; 
she  was  the  Sophia  of  six  moiitlis  ago^  and  no 
amount  of  explanation  could  ever  make  her 
comprehend  what  had  happened  since  that  time ! 

And  here  Alfred  broke  his  silence. 

"What  you  have  just  confessed,"  he  said, 
"  removes  my  last  scruple.  I  might,  for  all  1 
can  tell,  have  stayed  my  hand  and  spared  your 
life  upon  your  promise  to  make  Maud  happy ; 
for,  in  spite  of  her  treatment  of  me,  her  happi- 
ness is  still  my  first  consideration.  But  now 
you  have  declared  that  impossible, — why,  as 
soon  as  I  can  get  this  revolver  out  of  my 
pocket — for  it  has  stuck  in  the  confounded 
lining — I  will  shoot  you  like  a  rabbit !  " 

"  Sir  William,"  cried  Peter,  "  I  appeal  to 
you !  You  are  the  representative  of  Law  and 
Order  here.  He  is  threatening  a  breach  of 
the  Peace — the  Queeii's  Peace !  I  call  upon 
you  to  interfere  ! " 

12 


178         (JTontmalin'©  ®ime  €l)cqties. 

"  I  am  no  advocate,"  said  Sir  William,  with 
judicial  calm,  "  for  taking  the  law  into  one'& 
own  hands.  I  even  express  a  hope  that  this 
gentleman  will  not  carry  out  his  avowed  inten- 
tion, at  least  until  I  have  had  time  to  with- 
draw, and  I  must  not  be  understood  to  approve 
his  action  in  any  way.  At  the  same  time,  I 
am  distinctly  of  opinion  that  he  has  received 
sufficient  provocation  to  excuse  even  such  ex- 
treme measures,  and  that  the  fate  he  threatens 
will,  if  summary,  at  least  be  richly  deserved." 

"  I  think  so  too,"  said  Sophia,  "  though  it 
would  be  painful  to  be  compelled  to  witness 
it!" 

"  Terrible !  "  agreed  Miss  Tyrrell.  "  Let  us 
hide  our  eyes,  dear !  " 

"  Stay,  Alfred !  "  Miss  Davenport  implored, 
"  have  some  pity  !  Think  —  with  all  your 
faults,  you  are  a  keen  sj^ortsman — you  would 
not  shoot  even  a  rabbit  sitting !  Give  Mr. 
Tourmalin  a  start  of  a  few  seconds — let  him 
liave  a  run  before  you  fire  !  " 

All  this  time  Alfred  was  still  fumbling  for 
and  execrating  the  obstinate  weapon. 

"  I  decline  to  run !  "  Peter  cried  from  liis 
seat ;  he  k.new  too  well  that  he  could  not  stir  a 


CompottniJ  Interest.  179 


limb.  "  Slioot  me  sitting,  or  not  at  all,  but 
don't  keep  me  waiting  any  longer  !  " 

His  prayer  seemed  likely  to  be  granted,  for 
Alfred  had  at  last  succeeded  in  extricating  the 
revolver;  but  before  he  could  take  aim,  the 
Bank  Manager  and  the  Melbourne  man  ran  in 
and  interposed. 

"  Hold  on  one  minute,  sir,"  they  said  ;  "  we, 
too,  have  business  with  the  gentleman  on  the 
seat  there,  and  you  will  admit  that  it  must  be 
concluded  before  yours,  if  it  is  to  be  settled  at 
all.  "We  must  really  ask  you  to  postpone  your 
little  affair  until  we  have  finished.  "We  will 
not  keep  you  waiting  any  longer  than  we  can 
help." 

The  Judge,  with  an  ostentatious  indiffer- 
ence, had  strolled  away  to  the  smoking-room, 
probably  to  avoid  being  called  upon  to  decide 
so  nice  a  point  as  this  disputed  precedence ; 
his  daughter.  Miss  Davenport,  and  Sophia, 
had  turned  their  backs,  and,  stopping  their 
ears,  were  begging  to  be  told  when  all  was 
over. 

Alfred  was  struggling  to  free  his  pistol-arm, 
which  was  firmly  held  by  the  other  two  men, 
and  all  three  were  talking  at  once  in  hot  and 


180         QTourmalin's  ®imc  Cheques. 

argumentative  support  of  their  claims.  As 
for  Peter,  he  sat  and  looked  on,  glued  to  his 
seat  by  terror :  if  he  had  any  preference  among 
the  disputants,  he  rather  hoped  that  Alfred 
would  be  the  person  to  gain  his  point. 

All  at  once  he  saw  Sophia  turn  round  and, 
with  her  fingers  still  pressed  to  her  ears,  make 
energetic  contortions  of  her  lips,  evidently  for 
his  benefit.  After  one  or  two  repetitions,  he 
made  out  the  words  she  was  voicelessly  fram- 
ing. 

"  Run  for  it  1 "  he  interpreted.  "  Quick 
.  .  .  while  you  can  !  " 

With  his  habitual  respect  for  her  advice,  he 
rose  and,  finding  that  the  power  of  motion  had 
suddenly  returned,  he  did  run  for  it;  he 
slipped  quietly  round  the  corner  and  down  the 
passage  to  the  other  side  of  the  ship,  where  he 
hoped  to  reach  the  saloon-entrance,  and  eventu- 
ally regain  his  cabin. 

Unhappily  for  him,  the  grim  lady  from  Mel- 
bourne had  noted  his  flight  and  anticipated  its 
object.  Long  before  he  got  to  the  open  doors, 
he  saw  her  step  out  and  bar  the  way  ;  she  had 
an  open  sunshade  in  her  hand,  which  she  was 
preparing  to  use  as  a  butterfly  net. 


Compounb  Jntcrcat.  181 

lie  turned  and  fled  abruptly  in  the  opposite 
direction,  intending  to  cross  the  bridge  which 
led  aft  to  the  second-class  saloon  deck,  where 
he  might  find  cover  ;  but  as  he  saw,  on  turning 
the  corner,  the  Manager  had  already  occupied 
the  passage,  Peter  turned  again  and  doubled 
back  across  the  ship,  making  for  the  forecastle ; 
but  he  was  too  late,  for  the  Melbourne  man 
was  there  before  him,  and  cut  off  all  hope  of 
retreat  in  that  quarter. 

There  was  only  one  thing  left  now ;  he  must 
take  to  the  rigging,  and  accordingly  the  next 
moment,  scarcely  knowing  how  he  came  there, 
he  was  clambering  up  the  shrouds  for  dear 
Hfe! 

.  Higher  and  higher  he  climbed,  slipping  and 
stumbling,  and  catching  liis  unaccustomed  feet 
in  the  rathns  at  every  step ;  and  all  the  way  he 
had  a  dismal  conviction  that  as  yet  he  had  not 
nearly  exhausted  the  check  he  had  dra-\vn.  He 
must  have  at  least  another  couple  of  hours  to 
get  through,  not  to  mention  the  compound  in- 
terest, which  the  bank  seemed  characteristically 
enough  to  be  paying  first. 

Still,  if  he  could  only  stay  quietly  up  aloft 
till  his  time  was  up,  he  might  escape  tlie  worst 


182         tourmalin's  ®ime  €l)cqttc0. 

yet.  Surely  it  was  a  sufficient  penalty  for  his 
folly  to  have  embroiled  himself  with  every 
creature  he  knew  ;  to  have  been  chivied  about 
the  deck  of  an  ocean  steamer  by  three  violent 
men,  each  thirsting  for.  his  blood ;  and  to  be 
reduced  to  mount  the  rigging  Kke  an  escaped 
monkey ! 

A  few  more  steps  and  he  was  safe  at  last ! 
Just  above  was  a  huge  yard,  flattened  on  the 
upper  surface,  with  a  partially  furled  sail,  be- 
hind which  he  could  crouch  unseen ;  his  hands 
were  almost  upon  it,  when  a  bronzed  and 
bearded  face  appeared  above  the  canvas — it 
was  one  of  the  English  crew. 

"  Beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  the  man,  civilly 
enough,  "  but  I  shall  'ave  fur  to  trouble  you  to 
go  down  agin,  please.  Capt'in's  strick  orders, 
sir.  Passengers  ain't  allowed  to  amuse  their- 
selves  climbing  the  rigging  !  " 

"  My  good  man ! "  said  Peter,  between  his 
pants,  "  do  I  look  as  if  I  was  amusing  myself  ? 
I  am  pursued,  I  tell  you.  As  an  honest,  good- 
hearted  British  seaman — which  I  am  sure  you 
are — I  entreat  you  to  give  me  a  hand  up,  and 
hide  me  ;  it — it  may  be  life  or  death  for 
me !  " 


(Compound  Jntcrcst.  183 

The  man  wavered ;  the  desperate  plight 
Peter  was  in  seemed  to  arouse  liis  compassion, 
as  it  well  might. 

"  I  could  'ide  yer,  I  suppose,  come  to  that," 
he  said  slowly ;  "  but  it's  too  late  to  think  o' 
that  now.     Look  below,  sir  !  " 

Peter  glanced  down  between  his  feet,  and 
saw  two  swarthy  Lascars  climbing  the  rigging 
like  cats.  Lower  still,  he  had  a  bird's-eye  view 
of  the  deck,  about  which  his  enemies  were 
posted  in  readiness  for  his  arrival :  the  Manager 
exhibiting  his  spiked  boots  to  Sir  "William,  who 
shook  his  head  in  mild  deprecation ;  the  old 
lady  shaking  her  sunshade  in  angry  denuncia- 
tion, while  her  brother  flourished  his  horse- 
whip ;  and  Alfred  stood  covering  him  with  his 
revolver,  pre]3ared  to  pick  him  off  the  instant 
he  came  within  range ! 

And  Peter  hung  there  by  his  hands — for  his 
feet  had  slipped  out  of  the  ratlins — as  helpless 
a  target  as  any  innocent  bottle  in  a  shooting- 
gallery,  and  the  Lascars  were  getting  nearer 
and  nearer ! 

He  could  see  their  bilious  eyeballs,  and  their 
teeth  gleaming  in  their  dusky  faces.  He  felt 
a  bony  hand  reaching  for  his  ankles,  and  then 


184         S^ourmalin'a  ®itnc  Qri)cqttcs. 

a  dizziness  came  over  liim ;  liis  grip  upon  tlie 
coarse,  tarry  cordage  relaxed,  and,  shutting  his 
eyes,  he  fell — down — down — down.  "Would 
the  fall  never  come  to  an  end?  Would  he 
never  arrive  ?  .  .  . 


CHAPTER  X. 


DENOUEMENT. 


At  last !  The  shock  was  over ;  and  he 
feebly  opened  his  eyes  once  more,  to  find  that 
he  was  undoubtedly  on  the  deck  ;  and,  yes,  the 
Bank  Manager  was  standing  over  hhn  with  a 
kind  of  triumphant  grin ! 

"  Mercy ! "  Peter  murmured  faintly.  "  You 
— you  surely  wouldn't  kick  a  man  when  he's 
down !  " 

"  My  dear  sir !  "  protested  the  Manager, 
"  why  should  I  wish  to  kick  you  in  any  posi- 
tion ? " 

He  must  be  fatally  injured,  if  even  the 
Manager  had  relented ! 

"  Is — is  Alfred  there  ? "  asked  Tourmalin, 
anxiously.     "  Keep  him  away,  if  you  can  !  " 

"  Certainly  ! "  said  Mr.  Perkins.  "  Who  is 
Alfred  ? " 


186         ©onrmalin's  ®ime  €:l)eqnes. 

"  Why,  the — man  with  the  revolver.  I 
thought  you  knew  !  " 

"  Come,  come,"  said  the  Manager,  "  there's 
no  man  of  that  kind  here,  I  assure  you.  Pull 
yourself  together,  sir ;  you're  on  board  the 
JBoomerang  now !  " 

"  I  know,"  said  Peter,  dolefully, — "  I  know 
I  am !  " 

■  He  shut  his  eyes  resignedly.  He  was  about 
to  receive  some  other  portion  of  his  time-bal- 
ance. If  he  could  only  hope  that  no  fresh 
complications  would  arise !  Would  he  meet 
Miss  Tyrrell  or  Miss  Davenport  next,  he  won- 
dered, and  how  would  they  behave  ? 

"  Haven't  you  had  sleep  enough  yet  ?  "  said 
the  Manager.  "  You're  not  more  than  half- 
awake  even  now  !  " 

"  Sleep  ?  "  exclaimed  Tourmalin,  sitting  up 
and  rubbing  his  eyes.  "  Why,  you  don't  mean 
to  tell  me  I've  been  dreaming  aU  this  time  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  about  dreaming  ;  but  I  can 
answer  for  your  snoring.  Why,  you  almost 
droAvned  the  ship's  band  !  I  knew  what  would 
happen  when  you  loould  have  two  helpings  of 
curry  at  breakfast.  Worst  thing  to  take  in  the 
world,   especially   if  you   don't  walk   it   off ! 


®l)e  ©cnottcmcnt.  187 

Why,  you've  been  the  joke  of  the  whole  ship 
for  the  last  half-hour.  I  wish  you  could  have 
seen  yourself,  with  your  head  hanging  over 
tlie  arm  of  your  chair  and  your  mouth  wide 
open  !  I  thought  at  last  it  was  only  kind  to 
wake  you  up.  Those  two  young  ladies  over 
there  have  been  in  fits  of  laughter  !  " 

Peter  picked  up  Buckle,  which  was  lying 
face  downward  on  the  deck.  His  own  face 
was  very  red,  possibly  from  stooping,  as  he  in- 
quired : 

"  Er — which  two  young  ladies  ?  " 

"  Can't  tell  you  their  names ;  but  those  two 
uncommonly  nice-looking  girls — one  in  white 
and  navy-blue,  and  the  darker  one  in  pink. 
Dear  me,  I  thought  they  would  have  died  !  " 

Even  now  they  seemed  to  have  the  greatest 
difficulty  in  controlling  their  countenances,  for 
happening  just  then  to  look  round  and  catch 
Peter's  glance  of  confused  and  still  somnolent 
suspicion,  they  buried  their  faces  in  their  hand- 
kerchiefs once  more,  in  agonies  of  suppressed 
mirth. 

And  these  were  the  two  whom  his  dreaming 
fancies  had  pictured  as  tenderly,  desperately, 
madly  devoted  to  him  !     The  reality  was  de- 


188        ®0urmalin's  ®ime  (i.\)t(\ncs. 

cidedlj  disenchanting:  tliey  were  very  ordi- 
nary girls,  lie  saw,  after  all. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Perkins,  "it's  not  far  off 
tiffin  time  now ;  so,  you  see,  you  managed  to 
get  through  your  extra  time  after  all !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Peter,  with  a  httle  natural  em- 
barrassment ;  "  but  I  think,  do  you  know,  that, 
on  reflection,  I — I  woii^t  deposit  the  extra 
hours  after  all !  If  you  will  kindly  take  back 
the — the  check-book,"  he  added,  feehng  in  his 
pockets,  "  and  give  me  the  form  I  signed,  we 
will  consider  the  arrangement  canceled — eh  ? " 

"  It's  my  belief,"  said  the  Manager,  "  that 
your  head  isn't  quite  clear  yet ;  for,  hang  me 
if  I  know  what  you're  talking  about!  De- 
posit ?  check-book  %  form  %  What  is  it  all 
about?" 

Peter  colored  more  furiously  than  before. 

"  It  was  the  curry,"  he  said.  "  I  wasn't 
quite  sure  whether — but  it's  really  too  absurd 
to  explain.  I  am  wide-awake  now,  at  all 
events ! " 

He  was  awake  now,  and  knew  that  no  time- 
bargain  of  this  monstrous  kind  had  ever  been 
actually  effected,  and  all  the  wild  events  which 
seemed  to  have  taken  whole  months  to  accom- 


®l)c  CDcnottcmcnt.  189 

plish  themselves,  were  the  work  of  a  single 
hour's  indigestion!  He  was  still  a  bachelor; 
still  engaged  to  Sophia :  he  had  still  to  make 
the  acquaintance  of  Miss  Tyrrell  and  Miss  Dav- 
enport, and  endure  the  ordeal  of  remaining  for 
some  weeks  to  come — to  say  nothing  of  the 
extra  hours — exposed  to  the  peril  of  their  fas- 
cinations ! 

But  whatever  happened  now,  it  could  not  be 
said,  at  least,  that  he  had  not  received  abun- 
dant warning  of  the  consequences  which  might 
ensue  from  any  yielding,  however  blameless  or 
defensible,  on  his  part. 

And  Peter  Tourmalin  resolved  that  hence- 
forth Buckle  should  monopolize  liis  attention. 


THE  EPILOGUE. 

Theke  are  always  a  few  inquiring  persons 
who,  at  the  conclusion  of  any  story,  insist 
upon  being  told  "  what  happened  after  that." 
And  if  such  a  question  is  ever  justified,  it  is 
so  in  the  case  of  a  narrative  that,  as  in  the 
present  instance,  ends  almost  at  the  precise 
moment  at  which  it  began. 

So  it  is  not  impossible  that  some  readers 
may  be  sufficiently  interested  to  wish  to  know 
the  particular  effect  produced  upon  Peter  Tour- 
malin's subsequent  conduct  by  a  vision  more 
than  usually  complicated  and  connected. 

Did  he  receive  it,  for  example,  as  a  solemnly 
prophetic  warning,  and  forswear  all  female 
society  while  on  the  Boomerang  ?  or  was  he 
rather  prompted  to  prove  its  fallibility  by 
actual  experience? 

As  to  the  motives  which  guided  him,  we  are 


®l)e  aEpiloguc.  191 


unable  to  speak  with  confidence,  and  they  nmst 
be  left  to  be  accounted  for  by  the  reader's 
knowledge  of  human  nature  in  general,  and 
Peter's,  so  far  as  it  has  been  self-revealed  by 
his  unconscious  imagination  in  these  pages,  in 
particular. 

But  the  author  is  in  a  position  to  state  with 
certainty  that,  when  Sophia  and  her  mother 
met  the  ship,  as  they  duly  did  at  Gibraltar, 
nothing  on  Peter's  part  gave  them  the  slight- 
est ground  for  suspecting  that  he  was  on  terms 
of  even  the  most  distant  acquaintanceslii|)  with 
either  Miss  Tyrrell  or  Miss  Davenport,  and 
that  the  fact  of  his  being  far  advanced  in  the 
third  volume  of  Buckle's  History  of  Civilisa- 
tion seemed  to  guarantee  that  he  had  employed 
his  syjare  time  on  board  the  vessel  both  wisely 
and  well, 

Nor  did  he  get  into  any  diihculties  by  circu- 
lating gossip  concerning  any  matron  from  Mel- 
bourne, owing  to  the  circumstance  that  there 
was  no  lady  passenger  who  at  all  answered  the 
description.  She,  like  much  else  in  his  expe- 
riences, was  purely  a  creation  of  the  curry. 

Lastly,  it  may  be  added  that  Peter  is  now 
married  to  his  Sophia,  and  is  far  happier  than 


192         SCourmalin's  ®ime  €l)cqiic6. 

even  lie  could  have  expected.  She  tempers 
her  intellectuality  out  of  consideration  for  his 
mental  barrenness ;  and  as  yet  he  has  never 
found  her  society  in  the  least  oppressive,  nor 
has  his  errant  fancy  wandered  back  in  any  per- 
fidious sense  to  the  time  he  spent,  when  freed 
from  her  supervision,  on  board  the  Boomer(Mig. 


THE   END. 


THE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

Santa  Barbara 

STACK  COLLECTION 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW. 


A1J7J68 


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UC  SOUTHERN  |Glg^^^^^^^^ 

A  A  001  424  186         3 


